


For your Smile

by fearlesswindy



Series: Carried me with You [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Bittersweet, Bottom Sylvain Jose Gautier, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Feeding, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Pre-Time Skip, Public Blow Jobs, Rimming, Sexual Inexperience, Top Felix Hugo Fraldarius, bisexual awakening, falling love, sylvain is a disney princess, sylvix - Freeform, wholesome smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 77,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26601325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearlesswindy/pseuds/fearlesswindy
Summary: Sylvain finds his friends have turned the tables on him. First he's needing to clean up after Ingrid's failed relationship attempt and now Felix is pulling some one-liners on him!Nevermind the fact that they may be working.Sylvain, confident in his sexuality strikes a deal with Felix, has his world completely changed, and ends up with a new life purpose. All for his smile.Or, Sylvain has his bisexual awakening.---Sylvix Week 2020 Day 2Pining/Longing|PDA| College AU
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Carried me with You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003662
Comments: 151
Kudos: 191
Collections: Sylvain Week 2020!





	1. Turning of the Tables

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has cursed my brain and it so happened to somewhat fit in with Sylvix week so here we are! If you squint real hard you can see all the pining Felix has been doing for Sylvain, but please know this story is completely from Sylvain's POV.
> 
> In my first playthrough, before achieving A rank with Sylvain, he came across to me as the type of guy who bragged about his throws with women as a way to cover up his own feelings for men. Additionally, I don't know about ya'll, but I assume an inverse relationship between actual experience in bed vs talking about how experienced you are in bed.
> 
> Please enjoy Felix taking Sylvain on a metaphorical carpet ride off into a whole new world.
> 
> PDA theme to come in later chapters! =)
> 
> Takes place during the academy phase, but after Felix's birthday so both characters are of age. Please note there are references to teen sex.

Something was off about Ingrid. Sylvain struggled to find the right word to describe it, but she somehow looked…puffier than normal. Her arms were crossed, shoulders raised, and her face was scrunched in a way that was totally beyond cute. Not that’d he’d ever tell her. He didn’t have a death wish, and knowing her she’d beat his ass high into the heavens. He did file away the image for later, though.

They ate quietly. Yet another sign something was off. Surely there was something he had fucked up for her to scold him over. A chore he’d done wrong, shown up late for class, missed training, upset yet another girl, something. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to read her mind. Could he have missed a one-on-one meeting with her? Certainly it wasn’t anything that obvious, he’s not _that_ obtuse.

Finally, he couldn’t bear the silence any further.

“Has something got into you lately? You seem off.” Her jaw dropped and twisted side to side, eyes avoiding him. She clearly wanted to say something, but for some reason his wordshad dumbfounded her. She settled into biting her lower lip inside, brows furled, teeth mashing.

Okay, so she’s clearly annoyed at something or more likely someone. For once Sylvain thinks it might not be him.

“You…okay?” He regretted the words as soon as he said them, feeling like he was headed into uncharted territory with no way to back out. They’re close friends, sure, but talking about your feelings friends? Not really. More like the, I-tolerate-you-but-even-then-just-barely type of friends. Maybe Ashe would be better suited for this.

“Do I look okay?” She snapped. _Ooph_. He upgraded her from annoyed to pissed off.

“Some guy break your heart?” He cracked his knuckles, “I can beat him up for you, you know.” He meant it as a joke seeing as how that’s all she did for him. Well, minus the beating up part. More of the general he never has to see the girl again part. So he was taken aback when she said, “Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“What!? Who!?” He said a little too incredulously. There was a part of him that always thought he’d be the one to have a go with her. This revelation put a damper on that prospect.

“Would you quite down!” She hushed him, looking side to side. She huffed, collecting her thoughts and Sylvain leaned in closer. “You’re going to do something for _me_ for once.” Demanding. Not asking. She’s not just pissed off, she’s _royally_ pissed.

“Of course,” Sylvain said, smiling, as if he had another option because A. Ingrid wouldn’t let him and B. There was no way he was going to let some jerk who had hurt her be walking around with their pride intact.

“Make Felix apologize to me,” she whispered, all the fight gone from her voice, leaving behind only hurt.

Sylvain’s eyes bugged out, “ _FELIX_!?”

 _Felix Hugo Fraldarius? That Felix? The Felix they all grew up with? Skinny, hair in a bun, trains-instead-of-eats Felix? Wait--_ he realized he just remember he’d said he’d beat him up-- _sword obsessed Felix!?_ His mouth went dry.

And then the jealously set in. Surely between of the three boys she’d grown up with Sylvain ranked higher on the list than Felix. Dimitri was obviously first, he may have a prized Crest but there was no out-competing a prince. Of course Felix was very good looking, and he couldn’t fault her for that, but the man is distant. Not to mention she’d been freaking engaged to his brother before he died. Between that and her hang up on addressing Dimitri as ‘your majesty’ he’d felt good about his standings. 

“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” she said to his stunned silence. He swallowed, finally gathering his senses.

“What happened?” He asked sincerely.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she replied, form turning puffier than before. “Just make him apologize.”

“Oh good, that I can do. I don’t think I could beat him in combat to be honest. But I will retrieve the jerk and force his apology, my lady,” he teased and Ingrid threw an apple square into his chest. _Ow,_ that actually had kind of hurt.

Sensing her mood could somehow worsen if he stuck around, he stood up to find— _fuck,_ he still couldn’t believe it—he stood up to find Felix.

* * *

He’d lucked out and found Felix in his room instead of the training grounds. He might actually be able to find out what happened in detail with the privacy.

“We had sex. It didn’t go as she expected. I kicked her out.” Boom. Just like that he was stunned into silence again. Somehow he’d only imaged them making out? They’d actually done it though? Goddess, now his pride was starting to hurt. Is his game really that weak? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Stay on task.

“You need to apologize to her, man. She’s livid.”

Felix scoffed, “I warned her. She’s an idiot for thinking otherwise. Not my fault she’s upset.”

“What do you mean? I’m pretty sure it is, seeing as how _you_ kicked her out,” he said confused. “What exactly didn’t go as planned?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” he said annoyed and moved to make his escape. Sylvain thankfully was closer to the door and cut off his path. With him closer, Sylvain could see a touch of pink dusting Felix’s cheeks. Adorable almost, if his own pride hadn’t been singed so badly.

“No,” Sylvain said, pushing him back into the room with one hand, Felix blessedly yielding. “Better or worse I’m in the middle of this now. What the hell happened when you two had-d—“ he gulped. Flames, this was challenging. To talk to his friend, about his friend, boning down with each other. The whole situation was making him oddly jealous in a way he wasn’t used to. _Saints, do I make it this hard for Ingrid when I fuck up?_ “—had sex?” Felix sat down on his bed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He sighed heavily, “I—Perhaps I was too inviting of it. I admit it did feel nice at first.”

“And then…?” He was going insane internally, feeling like he was trying to pull sap from a tree. It was so unlike Felix to be indirect. Something about this was bothering him too.

He rolled his eyes, “I told her though, and she wouldn’t listen.”

“Fuck, you didn’t come in her face did you?” He’d been there before. Chicks didn’t like that unless they asked you to.

“Saints, Sylvain! Fuck no!”

“Then what!?”

“I’m not into her!” And then quieter, “Or any woman for that matter.” _Oh. “_ I couldn’t keep it up, she got upset, then I kicked her out.”

“And she knew this going into it?”

“Yes.”

“And she still?”

“Yup.”

Sylvain sighed. He hadn’t known this about Felix. He supposes he could have guessed, but it never matter enough for him to need to.

“I dunno man, you still kicked her out. That hurts.” He knew from experience.

“Whatever.”

He knew when Felix was done with a conversation. No use trying unless he wanted to get kicked out next. He opted to change the topic and slowly work his way back to convincing him to apologize. He let the air hang to settle before speaking again.

“So…you like guys.”

Felix shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah,” he said cooly and then rolled his head into his shoulder peering at him sideways. He looked Sylvain up and down, making himself hyperaware of what his body was currently doing (nothing really, he was just standing there, but now he felt like he had to be doing something?). Felix closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, a new fire present. Sylvain had seen it many times before, typically before a match or battle. “Do you?”

Sylvain’s mouth opened, eyebrows lifting at the sheer audacity of the question. Felix was certainty feeling bold tonight. “No,” he responded confidently.

Felix narrowed his eyes, “You sure?”

“Ye-ah,” he scoffed. As if it wasn’t obvious.

“Hrmph.”

Felix has his own way of communicating without words. A simple ‘hrmph’ from Felix possessed a wide breadth of opinions and emotions only those closest to him could pick apart. Most of the time, people think he means ‘fuck off,’ or ‘I’d like to see you try,’ when in reality his 'hrmph’s' could fill whole encyclopedias. Sylvain has heard this one many times before, but it felt more flavorful. It even had a tone of sassiness. _Sassiness_. From Felix. Saints.

“You don’t believe me?” Sylvain asked. Felix shook his head, twisting his lips as he did so. _That coy mother-fucker. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me?_ He felt a twist in his gut, knowing yet another friend had seemingly turned the tables on him. Today was an odd day; was the Goddess trying to place some sort of justice upon him? He made a mental note to visit the Cathedral later to pray. “So like the three girls I dated in the past moon haven’t convinced you?” Felix's face remained unchanged, leering at him. This wasn’t how he’d expected the change of topic to go, but he had to admit it was somewhat fun to be this laid-back with Felix. Typically when he’d try to talk about dating and relationships with Felix, he’d just shut it down.

Felix shook his head no.

At his wits end, Sylvain scoffed, throwing his arms into the air. “Well then what else is there?”

Felix lifted his head, raising a luring eyebrow at him. _Wow—fuck—I mean wow, Felix._ Sylvain had seen the trap, and yet still he fell into it. Hook, line, and sinker. All he could do was laugh. Goddess, he was even a touch proud.

An idea suddenly hit him.

“Alright,” he started, giving his award-winning smile. Felix watched calmly, a corner of his mouth creeping upwards. “This should be fitting. I give you a shot and when my dick stays as lip as yours did with Ingrid, _you’ll_ go apologize to her for kicking her out so rudely.”

Felix lightly scraped at his cheek with his thumb, looking away from him. “And when you’re done picking your jaw up off the floor from the most intense orgasm of your life,” his eyes flicker to look at him directly, piercing intensely, “ _you’ll_ apologize on my behalf.”

_Damn_.

He was definitely going to use that one later.

“Deal.”

He’s done plenty of meaningless kissing before with girls he really had no interest in. This’d be no different. In fact, he was going to be giving Felix something nice to think about later on. How nice of him. He’d go apologize to Ingrid, she’ll stay mad at him for another day or so, and then everything would be back to normal. A moon from now they’ll all be laughing about it.

Felix was taking off his boots, loud thunk on the floor as they dropped. At his confused look Felix said, “You expect me to be comfortable in bed with these on?” Sylvain simply chucked, walking over to sit on the bed, shoes on. This wouldn’t take long.

“An honest shot, yes? No pecking and saying you’re turned off,” Felix said, finally returning to a familiar coldness.

“Yeah, yeah, I got this,” he said leaning into Felix, taking his face with his hand and pulling him closer. It’s muscle memory. Leaning in close, feeling the heat of his breath, looking down to view his lips, knowing he was doing the same. He could feel his heart beat picking up, but it did that whenever he kissed anyone new. And it wasn’t anything new. Kissing Felix felt like kissing anyone else.

His lips were thin, but soft and he didn’t push too hard into him, allowing for tender kisses; his favorite. He moved his hand down his long neck, stroking absent-mindedly, and felt the presence of Felix's tongue on his lower lip, knocking to get in. What a gentleman. Sylvain obliged, graciously opening his mouth for Felix to explore.

His tongue was longer than he’d anticipate, breeching deeply, and he was surprisingly adept with it, moving it in broad strokes against his own. It occurred to him he had no idea how experienced Felix was. Based off this he certainly had done stuff before, but there was no way he’d done much else…right? The man was always training.

He felt himself starting to get bored. Has it been long enough yet? Maybe he’d use some of his tricks, just to really prove he gave it his all. He repositioned his hands, one to his hip and the other to the back of his head, winding into his hair, gaining more control over his body. He closed his mouth gently around the wandering tongue and suckled, slowly dragging him backwards with his grip.

Felix let out a deep moan in response.

Sylvain’s eyes flew open, jaw dropping, inadvertently letting go of him. Felix pulled back, blushing, but wielding a scowl.

“I ruined it,” he said flatly. “I’ll go apologize,” he finished with a sigh.

Sylvain knows he heard him speak, but was too busy shushing the pounding in his ears. The moan. His breath hitched. The blessed, damnable moan from _Felix_ had sent shockwaves through him, turning his stomach upside down and continuing, much to his alarm, to his dick. He blinked, noticing he’d been staring at this lips for too long, and closed his mouth, moving his tongue around the dry spots—moving it around searching for something that was now gone.

Felix made to stand up, but Sylvain grabbed him, jerking him back down, and pressed him right back onto his mouth. Their lips smashed hard into each other, Sylvain holding him tightly, hands shaking, but not wishing him to get away. This time he was the one pressing into his mouth, trying to entice his tongue back to him. He need to suck on it again, make him make that noise again. For he had had an epiphany: he must make Felix moan in every way possible.


	2. Fodlan's Finest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Felix is much better at making Sylvain moan instead.

The move must have emboldened Felix, who kissed back with far more fury than before. He had to have been holding back, afraid he’d scare him off perhaps. Or maybe he was just riding the moment the best he could, surprised it had even taken off. That’s certainly how Sylvain felt. He had no time to question it however, far too determined to pleasure the man.

Felix trailed off along his jawline, leaving nips in his wake, gradually increasing in pressure—testing his limits. He laughed at Felix’s intensity, knowing he was fine taking a beating. It was cute. How long had he desired him like this? Before he could ponder the question, teeth sharply sunk into his neck leaving him the one gasping out loud. He grimaced, clenching his body closer. 

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Felix whispered into his ear, tonging and nipping at his lobe, “when I’m the one who caught you.” He bit down again in the same spot to emphasize the point.

“Ah-h!” He moaned, Felix sucking with clear intention to leave his mark. While the feeling did make his dick groan, he preferred not to be marked up. Never mind the reason typically being to avoid getting caught by multiple lovers. “No marks,” he said breathily.

Barely audible through the biting and suckling, “Then stop me.”

The room got visibly brighter. He could actively feel his face turning red. His heart sped up, pounding hard against his sternum. The thrill of a lover announcing they’d want some roughness never failed to excite him, and this was no exception. His fully hardened cock pressed uncomfortably in his breeches. _Of fucking course you’d want me to try to stop you. Goddess-damned sword boy._ He couldn’t even try to act surprised.

He moved his head to try and displace Felix's mouth, grabbing his face to bring his lips back to his own. He still hadn’t gotten another sound out of him, yet most embarrassingly Felix had him moaning from a few nips of his neck as if he’d never been touched before. None of this was new for Sylvain, it was all just…with Felix.

Felix grabbed and twisted his arm away from his face, pinning it into a lock, preventing his own removal from his neck. Another hand threaded into the back of his hair and pulled _hard._ Sylvain moaned a sharp yelp, head yanked backwards, leaving his mouth open, neck exposed. Looking down his face he could see Felix, smirking, appearing awfully like a cat with its prey; ready to toy with it for hours instead of quickly going for the kill. Sylvain gulped. His dick twitched and ached.

He was all too familiar with the hunger inside Felix’s eyes. Usually it was one he processed when going down on a girl. A desire to make her squirm and shout and moan his name until daybreak. Never had he’d seen it directed his way before. And oh, the power it held. His brain felt like soup, uncertainty mixed with horniness. _For Felix._

Felix lunged for another sequence of bites on the other side of his neck, holding his head still. He wasn’t exactly panicking, but couldn’t help noticing his hands going numb and breath hitching, his moans getting quieter and fewer. Felix must have sensed it too, as his strategy changed. Scattering his bites away from a central focus and licking more until his lips made contact with his once more. Sylvain instantly missed the pain and whined in disbelief as he leaned into his mouth.

Felix pulled back and released his grips and all contact, looking him square in the eye. Sylvain lifted a final moan into a question at the loss.

“This okay?” Felix asked, searching his face. His voice betrayed his strong posture, sounding breathy and bothered. “You seem uncertain.”

“Uhh…” Sylvain was trying to piece back together his swirling soupy brain. This was hot, but this also was Felix, _a guy,_ and Felix was his friend, _who’s a guy,_ but Felix was making him hot? So Felix is hot? He looked at him. The man kneeling before him was collected, confident, and— _shit, worlds beyond sexy._ How had he not noticed until now? Sylvain coughed.

“Sylvain. Do you like this,” Felix stated impatiently.

This was fine, right? He could do this. Flames he already was doing it. Him and Felix. Together. In like, a _together_ together way. It wasn’t unheard of, right? People wouldn’t be too surprised. He could have sworn he’d heard Caspar liked both women and men. Plus it’d certainly still upset his family. So sure, yes, he could allow himself this. Flames, he wanted this, wanted Felix. Wanted _him_ to moan his name out until daybreak. Sylvain swallowed, eyeing his new lover and biting his lip now that he’d found his appetite. 

“I want you,” Sylvain said. Felix chuckled, looking away, hiding a blush on a pedestal. It was adorable, and Sylvain smiled toothily.

“Let’s switch to something you’re more familiar with then, get you comfortable,” Felix said, leaning back onto the bed, hands working to dispose himself of his vest and partially open his shirt. Sylvain positioned himself between his legs, kissing his chin lightly.

“Do be noisy for me, sweetheart,” Sylvain whispered into his ear. Felix scowled.

“Don’t call me swee—“ Sylvain shut him up with a kiss. Much to his delight, Felix obliged his wish and moaned into every press of his lips. None were as great as when he’d sucked his tongue that first time, however. Damn man was skimping out on him. Time to remedy that.

He reached back into his bag of tricks, kissing his neck and ear not all too dissimilar to how Felix had only moments ago. Felix traced his hands around his chest, working them into the sleeves of his jacket. Practiced, Sylvain removed it without ceasing his work and barely noticed Felix’s hand had moved around his back to unlatch his cummerbund with ease, tossing it dramatically across the room. Funny that, most women struggled with the garment.

Sylvain reached into his lover’s partially opened shirt, feeling his heated chest, and only needing a moment to reorient his expectations. There was still a nipple that was calling his name. A moan rumbled deep in Felix’s throat as he thumbed and pinched at his nipple, the noise becoming breathy and rounded as he opened his mouth for Sylvain to enjoy it. “Yes,” Sylvain responded, pleased, into his ear. His cock groaned at the lustful noise. What a wonderful lover he had in his arms.

Now to work him more.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sylvain moaned into him, still toying with his nipple. “The way your body moves makes me ache, I want you so bad.” Felix moaned louder at that line, and Sylvain made a mental note of it. “Your eyes are stunning, like gemstones, I could get lost in them forever, baby plea—“ Felix hit in in the shoulder rather hard, interrupting his flow. “—what?”

“You seriously say that bullshit to women!?”

He laughed, “Yeah. What you don’t like it, babe?” Another hit to his shoulder. _Ow._

“Enough with the pet names,” he said through his teeth turning his head, “And like you even know the color of my eyes.”

A wave of nostalgia hit him at the thought of Felix’s eyes, softening his face. Of course he knew the color of his eyes. He was far more intimate with them than anyone else. Felix’s true emotions could only be read by his eyes, something he picked up on early in their childhood, when no one else had bothered to pay attention. The image of them seared themselves into his brain when they had made their promise to each other. Remembering that now made him feel like an idiot for trying to use a line on him.

“Your eyes are amber, Felix,” he said affectionately, nuzzling into his neck. “They glow brighter when there’s a sword in your hand, and grown dim when you’ve forgotten to eat or when you’re upset. They’re the purest color I’ve ever seen, and I would never forget them, Felix. Never.”

“Ridiculous,” Felix muttered. He had to be blushing, but Sylvain didn’t chance a look.

“Hrm, too romantic for you? I can dirty it up a bit if that’s what you’re aching for,” Sylvain teased, remembering how he reacted earlier. Despite his annoyance, one of his lines had worked on him.

He went back to work on his neck, speaking between kisses. “You’ve stirred up a desire I never knew I had. I want you so bad, Felix. I want every inch of you, I want to hear you moan, make you scream—“ Felix turned to grab his mouth, moaning into it. _Easy._

They kissed passionately and Felix yanked Sylvain's shirt out of his breeches, feeling his bare back, sending shivers down his body. The hands went lower until he grab his ass, sending a jolt through him, breaking the kiss.

“Are you aware you possess Fodlan’s finest ass?” Felix said cheekily to him, grabbing him tighter on the word ‘finest.’

He chuckled, “Extremely aware, although I’m delighted to hear it from your pretty mouth.” He traced the outline of his lips.

Felix grabbed his head and pulled him in for more. “Funny,” he said between kisses, “Considering the people you fuck around with, you seem wholly ignorant of the fact.”

The growing discomfort in his pants couldn’t be ignored any longer. He reached down to adjust himself, head poking ever so slightly out of the top hem and pressed himself into his lovers body, immediately feeling the presence of Felix’s hard cock. They both gasped and Sylvain’s head went swirling again. He didn’t have time to process it with Felix’s hand still on his ass, a strong grip encouraging the motion repeatedly, edging him closer to ecstasy. In fact, it seemed more like Felix was trying to grind into him as he took the time to mentally adjust to his body, grunting louder with each pulse.

Sylvain gave into his body’s will, letting the motion come naturally. The added stimulus of another dick against his was more than great addition and he moaned louder each time Felix pushed into him. Since when had he gotten so noisy in bed? Or was it just because Felix was really that quiet? A hand reached up his shirt, resting onto a peck. A brush of fingers at his nipple barely gave him enough warning for the pinch that sent a white flash across his vision. He keened and thrust into Felix harder.

Felix laughed. He wanted to swear at him for so, tell him to shut up, but was too busy wailing from the pleasure around his nipple. He hadn’t anticipated it feeling so good. He knew women liked it for the most part, but he had thought that’d been because of, like, boobs or something. Except, he’d done it to Felix and he’d enjoyed it, gotten him to moan from it. Has he seriously been missing out this whole time? Shit, why has no one played with his nipples before!?

“So sensitive,” Felix teased, flicking and pinching absentmindedly making Sylvain produce noises he hadn’t thought possible. His other nipple felt flat out abandoned for death. A true travesty. A downright cataclysmic injustice.

“Baby, please,” he moaned for more stimulation. “Please, baby, please.”

Felix pinched and held the pressure, causing a high pitched whine to leave his mouth. “Having trouble recalling my name?” He closed his eyes shut as the pressure increased.

“Ah-H! Felix! Please!”

The hand on his ass moved, and his heart fluttered at the prospect of what's to come. Instead he felt the head of his cock being palmed and coaxed out of his already loose pants and at the same time Felix gave a twist to the nipple in hand. A coordinated effort to elevate his pleasure. He opened his mouth to scream, but instead went quiet, his whole body freezing to focus on the intense stimulation. His mouth hung agape staring at Felix. A brief flash of concern crossed Felix’s face, and Sylvain managed a whine and nodded at him to keep going. He squeezed his eyes shut as Felix greedily handled him from below. _Goddess, keep going, whatever you do don’t stop._ He opened to see Felix’s face turn into a scowl, and felt the hand on his cock reposition several times.

“Enough of this,” he spat, pushing Sylvain upright. “Take off you clothes, get on your back.”


	3. A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your past lovers are shit.”  
> “Oh?”  
> “Yes, and I do recall promising you the most intense orgasm of your life.”

“So demanding,” Sylvain teased back, but happily obliged. He stood, intending to give a show of it, but had only danced his shirt off when Felix shoved him on the bed with impatience.

“I’ve seen you bare plenty of times,” he said referring to their communal baths, “stop flaunting.” He grabbed his boots and with two fast tugs managed to pull off both the boots and his breeches. Impressive. He shimmied his drawers the rest of the way off, displaying his body as the feast he knows it to be, dick bobbing with excitement.

Felix scoffed, walking away. Sylvain swallowed, ego slightly damaged, but maintained his plastered smile. He stroked himself idly, wondering what Felix was doing on the other side of the room.

“You going to join me?” He struggled to omit the term of endearment at the end. It was such a force of habit, but he’d rather not get hit again. “Take off those clothes and come here.” Felix had yet to disrobe anything save his vest. His partially button shirt billowed around his wrists, collar draping off one shoulder exposing his pale skin. The way he stood gave him ample view of his trim ass, something he’s more than a handful of times looked at- _wait._

He could have slapped himself— _Saints, I should have realized then._

“Tch, I do as I please,” Felix responded, looking over his shoulder at him. “And wipe that fake smile off your face,” he commanded, turning for Sylvain to see him squeezing the head of his cock through his pants. His face went slack immediately, realizing he’d been trying to calm himself down. The thought he’d been almost too much for Felix made him want to pump himself harder, but he resisted, only allowing a small sigh to exit.

Hints of a grin started to appear on his lover’s face. “So you _are_ capable of listening.” He took off his shirt, exposing his lean-muscled build. Sylvain had always appreciated the tone of his body, allowing for quicker movements in battle compared to his bulkier build. He’d always been envious how his abs were more defined and shoulders more lean and neck longer and how his legs just went on for days with thighs that— _shit, had I been actually checking him out this whole time? Goddess-damned blind idiot._ Sylvain was finding this night to be more educational than he’d intended. What had he intended for the night anyway? He couldn’t recall now…

Felix kept speaking as he unlaced his breeches, removing them but keeping his drawers in place, tenting in a manner that left him to his imagination. “Let’s put that to the test. Take your hand off your dick.” Sylvain did as he was told, resting it behind his head.

Nothing could have prepared him for how Felix’s reaction was about to change his whole world.

He smiled. Truly. Not a smirk, or a grimace, or a half turned corner he was so used to seeing. A beaming, joyful smile. A smile Sylvain had almost given up on chasing after since it’d disappeared with Glenn. The exact smile that had brought him relief from his own shitty childhood and here he was doing it, expect with an older, far more handsome face. It hypnotized him into submission, knowing there’d now be nothing on this earth he wouldn’t do to stop him from seeing it as much as possible.

In the space where his life’s purpose had been seized, Felix had walked over to him to rest between his legs, lifting one over a shoulder. His smile faded as he looked at him, seeing Sylvain’s still dumbfounded and expressionless face. “Cat got your tongue?”

Words tripped out of his mouth before he could think them, “You’re stunning.”

“Hrmph,” he responded while fixing his hair tightly into a bun, ensuring nothing left dangling. Sylvain knew by the tone he had accepted the compliment, but was maybe surprised by it. Felix could never handle praise well, let alone a compliment and Sylvain took it as a victory. So far he had learned Felix was far better at making him moan than the other way around, but perhaps he could be the champion of making him smile.

All thought left him as Felix lapped the full length of his cock and inserted it into his mouth in one go. He gasped and impulsively took a hand to his lover’s head. Felix batted it away like an annoying fly, leaving him to clutch the sheets beneath and brace himself on the headboard.

He’s received plenty of head over the few years he’s been active. When it comes to handling his dick, he knows when he’s dealing with an amateur or seasoned player. With the types of women Sylvain typically attracted, the majority of his experiences were typically amateurs and the occasional, rare proficient lover. With the way Felix was massaging him with his tongue and pumping him steadily, there was no way Felix wasn’t new to this. Suddenly, Felix took in his full length, no complaints, peering upwards delighting in his string of loud moans and gasps, vibrating a chuckle onto his head, sending him further into bliss.

Felix was clearly well-versed and Sylvain was conflicted. On one hand, he was getting great head. Always a positive. Can never go wrong there. Great head was difficult to come by. On the other, this meant Felix had been doing this with others. Enough to get great at. And that really, _really_ bothered him. Not so much that it meant he was active, but more so because he didn’t know.

He felt a finger brush up against his asshole and jerked away at the foreign touch. “Whoa! Hey what’re doin’?” Felix continued sucking him, but looked at him with an inquisitive eyebrow. After a moment the touch returned. He jerked again, “Dude!”

Felix pulled away with a final lick, lifting up to look at him. “Stop squirming, I’m trying to get you off.”

“And it’s great, really, but could you back off with the fingers wondering around south?”

Felix’s eyebrows shot up, “Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t know who you’ve been with who thinks that’s great and totally no judgement to them, but most people don’t like their assholes being fondled.” Had Felix's eye not been twitching, Sylvain could have sworn his words had turned into him a statue.

Slowly Felix brought a hand to rest on his own forehead, “You really—no one has ever—I thought—” the hand moved to cover his mouth and he looked at Sylvain almost pained—no—full of pity.

“What?” Sylvain said, like he was missing out on a joke.

Anxiety pitted in his stomach. Did he just ruin the whole thing with his dumb mouth. He should have just said no and left it at that. Why’d he’d have to go and insult his past lovers. They’re were all probably better than him anyways and—

Felix dropped his hand to reveal a toothy smile, similar to the one prior before, but now he broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Sylvain’s eye went wide with confusion, and the only thing preventing his ego from completely being annihilated was the enchanting sound and view of Felix’s joy.

“Oh you poor, sweet summer fool!” Felix rang out through his laugh.

“You going to key me into the joke here? Or laugh at me until my dick goes soft.” The words were meant to have spite in them, but Sylvain was also smiling along with Felix. It was infectious. Felix turned his head to kiss the leg resting on his shoulder, calming himself with the light pecks.

“Your past lovers are shit.”

“Oh?” He’s had some pretty outstanding nights and those words felt like a challenge.

“Yes, and I do recall promising you the most intense orgasm of your life,” he said trailing off as he reached across, bending Sylvain in a manner not entirely comfortable, into the drawer in the nightstand. He retrieved a small bottle of oil. Sylvain quickly put two and two together. Of course he’d heard of people putting stuff up their asses, but he’d thought that was just a kink that wasn’t for him. But Felix was acting as if he’d misunderstood how to breath or something.

The uncertainty he thought he’d finally gotten over, suddenly was boiling over.

“Hey, man—“

“Don’t fret, princess, no one’s taking your virginity tonight,” he said, adjusting himself back and lifting Sylvain’s hips up and over to the side slightly. “I need you to trust me.” The uncertainty battled with the need to please Felix. Sylvain gulped.

“You, promise to stop if I ask?”

Felix rolled his eyes, “Saints, Sylvain, of course. It’s not going to work if you can’t relax though. I need you to trust me.”

“I trust you with my life, Felix.” He was trying to be sweet, remind him of their childhood promise, but it had instead earned him another eye roll. “Careful, Fe, your eyes might get stuck up their one day.”

“Tch. If I continue hang out with a buffoon like you? Almost assuredly. Put a pillow under your ass.”

“You sure it’ll be soft enough for Fodlan’s finest?”

“Ugh!” He let go of the leg on his shoulder, and pounced over him, two of his fingers rested on his lips. “Suck.” Sylvain smiled cheekily, and licked them like he would a pussy, winning him another eye roll, before Felix pushed them inside. Felix smiled, “Good.” Sylvain moaned at the sight. Perhaps making him smile was easier than he thought. He sucked on the two fingers in earnest now, earning him a chuckle. “Quick study. You might be salvageable yet,” Felix quipped. He pulled the pillow from under Sylvain's head gently and instructed him lift his hips, placing it beneath Fodlan’s finest ass. Like Saints he’d ever let Felix forget it.

Felix pulled back, removing the fingers from his mouth as he did so. Sylvain made sure to lick his lips after. That had always drove him wild when women would do it and it seemed to work on Felix too as he watched with lidded eyes.

Not breaking eye contact, the bottle was opened and oil dispensed. Felix lifted his leg back on his shoulder and placed an oiled hand around Sylvain's semi-hard dick, working him to fullness again. The oiled hand felt amazing in its own way compared to his mouth and he wasn’t sure which he’d prefer. Felix kept a steady pace, only backing off when Sylvain approached climax and not failing to produce all sorts of cries from him again. It was amazing and agonizing at the same time. The third time however, was so upsetting he started swearing at him in his moans.

“Shit, please—fuck—Felix, please, just let me fucking cum, I swear to the Goddess, Felix, you fucking—“ He opened his eyes to shoot a needy glare at him only too see him beaming. Bastard was enjoying every second of Sylvain’s begging and whining, rewarding him with that beautiful smile he craved. He squeezed on his head once more. “Ah-h Felix, you fucking gorgeous shitbag. Goddess damn your fucking—ah—beautiful shit face.”

Felix removed his hand, chuckling. He shuddered and whimpered, but Felix’s smile only grew larger. You— _Evil. Demon of a man._ Sylvain loved it. Felix hummed, delighted, opening the bottle once more, this time dispensing an amount onto his other hand.

His hand returned to his dick, albeit with far less pressure and tempo. The second cupped and massaged his balls for a moment before the finger slide downwards. He felt a pressure being applied in the space behind his balls, and, combined with the stroking, it felt not altogether terrible. The pressure increased and so did the pleasure, him moaning at its arrival. Felix licked and bit his own lip, all attention on Sylvain.

His ears pulsed as he felt the finger rest against his hole, but he didn’t jerk away this time—trusting Felix with his body. He continued to gently stroke him and apply pressure on the area beneath his balls and slowly Sylvain relaxed until he forgot the finger was there.

“Good,” Felix purred and the finger intruded inside him. Sylvain shuddered, breath increasing. It felt, not bad, but definitely not good. Weird. He settled on weird. “Relax,” Felix instructed and Sylvain willed his body to relax, not realizing how much he’d tensed.

Felix smiled and pressed further, evoking an uncomfortable moan from him. “Shh, it’ll be worth it. Relax.” The stroking on his dick helped, but not as much as staring at his smiling face. It was a side of Felix he hadn’t seen in years. He looked energized, soft, and loving all bundled together and it was all served up just for him to feast upon. He willed himself to relax.

The finger pressed further this time, but without as much discomfort, almost as if his body was pulling him in now. Sylvain let out a drawn out moan from the sensation. Maybe Felix was on to something. He felt kisses at his leg again, unaware he’d closed his eyes. “You’re doing so good, Sylvain,” Felix moaned. Sylvain bucked at the noise, clenching around the intrusion sending a wave of unexpected bliss through him. It was a sensation he’d never known before. He bucked again, pitifully chasing an orgasm to which Felix shush him again, “Calm down, I’m not done yet.”

Sylvain’s eyes widened at that. This was already feeling great, and yet there’d be more? Felix smiled wide and knowingly and Sylvain could feel another finger at his entrance. _Oh. OH._ How else would men have sex with each other? Saints, he truly is ignoramus. His face must have turned a color because Felix was laughing again. Least he could still rely on his stupidity to make him laugh.

It took longer for the second finger to fully enter and Felix had admitted that’d probably be all he could handle tonight. A statement that had implications of there intending to be more nights together had Sylvain’s stomach doing flips of joy. He began bucking into his hand again, only to be stopped once more.

“What else?” He panted at him.

“Mm, need to search for something,” Felix teased coyly, applying more kisses on his leg. Did he have a thing for his dumb hairy legs? He filed that away for later.

“’n’ what’s that?”

“Your orgasm,” he said with a devilish smile and removed his hand from his cock.

“Seems contrary,” Syvain said in confusion. Felix hummed like a school teacher judging a student's poor work, smile growing wider.

“We’ll see.” His grip on his leg tightened and the fingers inside him hooked upwards.

The pleasure was instant and he choked on a gasp. His moaning became incessant as he rocked his hips against his hand, Felix matching perfectly and shifting around every once and a while. He pushed up against him harder--it wasn’t enough, he needed more. He begged him, moaning his name over and over, but his lover wouldn’t yield. He reached with his own hand toward his bulging dick, but Felix hissed him away. He whined, pleaded with him until the words he spoke made no sense. Blubbering nonsense and feeling tears beginning to fall from the sides of his eyes. The intensity of the pleasure dumbfounded him, and he just needed that fucking bastard to touch his cock.

Through his whines and moans, Sylvain would have sworn he heard Felix mumble something in frustration, but hadn’t the brainpower to interpret any of it. He saw him change his positioning. His second leg was throw up over his shoulder and Felix leaned into him, folding his body. The difference was immediate, fingers reaching deeper, and string of ‘yes-es’ fell from his mouth.

The fingers separated and Sylvain's vision blurred, the whole room turning on its side, howling in ecstasy. The spread fingers hooked upwards even more and—that was it. He felt his soul leaving his body, everything reaching and expanding outwards into the heavens above. He’d want of nothing ever again save this feeling. It was his fate, and he accepted it, reveled in it. His vision went white and he swore he was going to meet the Goddess herself.


	4. Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain has insecurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still unsure how long this will be, but leaving it at 10 for now to help me have a goal in writing. So thankful for the support and comments thus far! Ya'll keeping me motivated :D
> 
> [future windy here. Narrator's voice: It was not 10 chapters.]

His vision slowly returned. The first thing he noticed was a handful of sheets being pressed into his mouth. The second thing he noticed was that he was screaming. The third was that he was still riding the orgasm, and could feel his abs fatiguing from it.

Slowly, the intense pleasure dispersed, leaving his body with post-bliss tingles. The sheets were removed from his face once he’d quieted down to reveal a Felix with eyes of worship gazing upon him. Sylvain tried to speak, but found his tongue uncooperative and throat hoarse. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to convey. Probably something like 'I love you. Holy shit that was amazing. Please marry me. I never want to leave you.'

Maybe it was best he couldn’t form words right now.

Felix smiled devilishly, “So noisy.” It wasn’t a complaint, quite the opposite in fact. A man admiring his own work.

Gently he removed his fingers and Sylvain whined at the loss. Slowly his legs were brought back down, Felix kissing each one before resting them on the bed. He kneeled over him, removing his drawers finally and taking his own cock out into his hand, pumping it with purpose while Sylvain watched.

He wanted to help, especially after the divine treat he’d just been subjected to, but he couldn’t move his body. The Monastery could be under attack right now, and he’d continue to lay in complete euphoria. Flames, this very room could be alight with fire and he’d perish happily having just experienced _that_.

“Mm, Sylvain,” Felix moaned. His balls were tightening up, he was close.

“Felix,” he clumsily returned. “Please.” Felix gave a short yell and fell forward, catching himself low above Sylvain’s body, spewing his spent over his chest, a deep growl rumbling through his chest.

After a moment, Felix pressed kisses into his shoulder, crawling over his leg to collapse next to him. They breathed together, recovering for several moments and after a time realizing they were just enjoying each others company.

Sylvain lifted a heavy arm and traced his lover’s lips. “Anything—“ he coughed to clear his voice having skipped a few words, “I’d do anything, to see you smile.” And the Goddess bless him, Felix’s face warmed to show him. “Yeah, that one. Anything.”

“Anything?” He asked with a raise eyebrow. He nodded, voice hurting too much from the little he’d already spoken. Felix mashed his lips together, twisting them until the smile was gone, although no where near the adopted cold demure he sported nowadays.

A hand reached down and lifted some of his spent left on his chest and brought it to his face. “Lick.”

 _Gross._ Sylvain eyed him, seeing him struggle to hold back a smile. “You’ll be rewarded.” Sylvain’s stomach dropped as he fully understood the dangerous weapon he’d just handed his friend-turned-lover. He couldn’t have been happier. He opened his mouth and licked enthusiastically, rejoicing at the beauty that was Felix.

* * *

Something moving by his side eased him awake. He opened his eyes to see Felix leaving the bed to get dressed. Gaslit lamps were still flickering outside, he couldn’t have been out long. He moved, body slightly aching, alerting himself to Felix. He paused his dressing, breeches hanging loose around his bottom, to attend to him. Sylvain watched as he grabbed and wetted a rag to clean off his torso. He reveled as Felix doted on him, sharp eyes trained on their task. He somehow made wiping off cum an affectionate display, one that Sylvain drank up. Satisfied, he returned to dressing himself, handing Sylvain his garments that had been tossed about.

“I’ll apologize to Ingrid tomorrow,” Felix said, passing him his breeches. Shit. Ingrid. He’d completely forgotten. She was the whole reason he was even here! To make him apologize for— _Oh!...But they had--fuck!_ —he sat up, mood soured. He was a dead man. Maybe Dimitri would say some nice things about him at his funeral.

Sensing his panic Felix added, “I won’t say anything in regards to this.” 

“But what about—“ Sylvain had his doubts. He’d just been telling the Goddess, sitting in her home in the heavens, about his orgasm. There’s no way word wasn’t going to travel. It’s how several of his previous relationship had abruptly ceased.

“Relax, Claude knows better than to speak of my dealings and the Boar is never in his room.” Felix seemed confident enough with that, but something nagged at him.

“Dealings? As in multiple?”

“Yes. What of it.”

“Erm, I just thought—“

“Thought what? That because you loudmouth your multiple conquests means mine don’t exist? Come on, Sylvain. Some people can actually keep their sex lives private.”

“Yeah, okay, but like when? You don’t go on dates, you’re always training.” Felix sighed, debating whether to tell him or not.

“Everyone thinks I train five days a week. In reality it’s sometimes only four.” A few emotions hit Sylvain at once. He was jealous in several shades ranging from missing out on spending time with his friend, going out on escapades together, all the way to hating he hadn’t been the one to spend that fifth night with him until now. Not wanting to cope with the latter, he fixated on the former, sliding easily back into his persona.

“You sly dog! Good on you! You could have told me you know. We could have been going out on the town this whole time—“

“Sylvain.” Felix looked at him, anger in his eyes. “I just fucked your brains out with two of my fingers.” Sylvain knew when Felix was dancing around a topic. He’d say something tangentially related, thinking it conveyed how he actually felt when it did no such thing. He’d need to goad in order to find out the truth.

“Uh, yeah I’m aware man, it was amazing, best I ever had. I told you already,” he said nonchalantly, waving a hand. Like he could actually downplay the amazing new rush he'd just had, but it seemed to work well enough. Felix brought his palm to his forehead, blinking, contemplating something, or maybe his anger was just festering more. He sighed, heavily. Sylvain swallowed a chuckle, knowing he shouldn’t push.

“Sylvain, I’ve only been fantasizing about fucking your brains out for over a year now. It would be great if you could not praise me on my previous bouts.” Felix continued to avoid eye contact, but Sylvain was smiling wide and genuine. He wanted him. _Has_ wanted him. And likely will _continue_ to want him.

“So, you would say you’re asking if I’d be your fifth day of training from now on?”

Felix huffed, “In a way.” Sylvain saunter forward, grabbing him by the waist and lifting chin into a kiss.

“I could be your boyfriend if you want.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but didn’t push him away, “You weren’t even aware you liked men before this.”

“Mmm,” Sylvain kissed his neck, “I should be thanking you for that. You’ll be allowing me to show my gratitude, right? Cause I gots lots.” A hand rested on the back on his neck, Felix encouraging him to kiss more.

“I suppose,” he purred. “In private only though. Don’t be trying anything out in the open.” Sylvain moaned affirmatively. Felix pulled his hair, yanking him off his neck. “I mean it.”

“Yes, yes,” he rolled his eyes. “I won’t ruin your pristine reputation with my shitty one.” Felix huffed, letting go of his hair.

“That’s not—“

“I get it. Of course you wouldn’t want to date a guy like me. I mean, I’m open to fooling—“

“Sylvain—“

“—around if that’s all you want. I just didn’t know how much I’d be into it, and you’ve like ignited this thing in me—“

“Sylvain!—“

“—and it’s super hot? But, like, really I get that associating with the scum of the earth isn’t—“

“Would you just shut up—“

“—exactly the stuff that screams ‘boyfriend.’ It’s like this one time a chick’s father chased me—“ He couldn’t finish the story, as Felix’s lips quieted his anxieties with a wanting kiss.

“You’re my boyfriend now. Okay?" Felix huffed. "Now get out of here, it’s late and the Professor will be patrolling soon.”

He would have easily convinced himself Felix was just saying that to get him to stop, but the smile upon his face ruined him and chased his demons back. A glowing smile crept on his own lips, and kissed him softly before departing for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg they're boyfriends
> 
> Ingrid gon be so mad


	5. Maintenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix finally decides he needs to get back to training five (four) days a week, but leaves Sylvain with a nice promise of a reward waiting at the end of the week. 
> 
> Sylvain copes terribly with the separation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally making good on that PDA theme. TW at the end of the chapter, especially if public sex stuff makes you anxious!

Felix had kept good on his word and apologized to Ingrid. She was still hurt, but at least cordial towards him when they were around each other. Sylvain on the other hand felt like the biggest piece of shit around her. He struggled to make eye contact, fearing she’d read his mind and end his life right as he’d found enough joy to make him stick with it.

Overly perceptive (and likely possessing a Sylvain-did-something-shitty meter), she had demanded to know why he was avoiding her. He had made up some lie about it regarding the details Felix had told him. Okay, actually, that wasn’t exactly a lie, but he knew she’d make the wrong assumptions. And sure enough, it embarrassed her thoroughly to the point she naturally avoided him over the course of the few days.

Which was great because Sylvain spent the next three evenings with Felix. He’d expected him to complain; he was skipping on his extra training time to be with him, but each time Felix had been the one dragging him into bed, showering him with pleasure. It was odd to be receiving so much, it usually wasn’t in his nature--he loved to give--but Felix continued to reward him with smiles making it all too easy to submit as his plaything. He’d be a red faced liar if he said he wasn’t starting to crave it too.

During their times he’d been able to partially confirm the thing Felix had for his legs; although it had turned out it wasn’t so much his legs as it was his body hair. And thanks to his damned family line, he had plenty of it. His boyfriend (a term he overused during their alone times, and one Felix did sparingly) delighted in combing his fingers through his chest and leg hair, sprinkling them with kisses. He even did it with the jungle of mess surrounding his dick, tracing the line from his belly to them repeatedly, whispering his name into his ear, until Sylvain was fully hard from the teasing.

By the end of their second evening together, he’d grown accustomed to taking three fingers inside him and was becoming adjusted to the new heightened orgasms enough to go for multiple rounds, so long as Felix didn’t edge him too much. On the third, he’d tried fingering himself while his boyfriend watched. It had lasted no more than a minute before Felix needfully replaced him with his own. He always saw to it he finished first, pumping himself to completion over Sylvain’s blissed-out body.

It upset him to an extent. Sylvain’s a lover whose lover won’t let him help. Whose lover puts him into a catatonic state of ecstasy before pleasuring himself. Sylvain just wanted the chance to do the same to him.

At some point during their free day, and before they had headed back to Felix’s room for the night, Claude had approached them asking if he should be expecting his nightly reading interruption to become a regular thing. Felix hadn’t been exactly kind with his response. “Has this miserable place failed to inform you of the library yet von Riegan? Do your reading there,” he hissed before storming off to hide the deep crimson forming around his cheeks.

“I take it that’s a yes.” Claude said slightly slack-jawed, watching Felix leave. Sylvain shrugged an apology at him before chasing after his boyfriend. As if he was actually sorry, though. Sylvain Jose Gautier had no shame and if his boyfriend liked him noisy, damn it he was going to be noisy, and sure as shit nothing would stop him from being so.

Okay, well, on second thought, maybe the chance of Ingrid finding out would shut him up.

* * *

Monday rolled around and they were sitting in lecture, the Professor engrossed in a story from their life as a mercenary, detailing it all out on the chalkboard when Felix turned to him to pass a note. Out of view of anyone else, he flashed him a smile, shooting butterflies along with it to make a home in his gut. He wondered what he’d done to warrant such a reward. Felix had gotten all too good at dishing out and holding back his charming smile as a means to order his boyfriend around. Maybe he had a new idea for them to try tonight, and was teasing him in advance. Excitedly, he opened to read the note once the Professor had their back turned.

‘ _Need to train. Can’t slack off anymore. No more meetings until Friday. Keep yourself maintained. Trust me. =)’_

Sylvain sighed and looked back up at the lecture, dejected. It wasn’t surprising Felix wanted to get back to training again, he just hadn’t thought it’d be so soon. Not when they had such a great thing going. Least the jerk had the decency to actually smile at him instead of leaving him with a dorky inked face. He looked back at the crude drawing, hating himself only a little for how much life it filled him with. How pathetic of an existence does he have for that small thing to affect him.

The reward waiting for him at the end of the week was sure enticing though. He dutifully fingered himself in his downtime. As if he wouldn’t without his boyfriend around to please him, now that he’d unlocked the hidden knowledge. But regrettably Sylvain lacked the experience Felix had and struggled to achieve the same climax. Not that he wasn’t coming. He just wasn’t coming _like that._

Frustrated, he ended up missing class training Wednesday morning chasing one. It had felt like he was on the edge of it when the bell tower rang, announcing his lateness. Felix had laid into him about it. He had been agitated before when he’d miss, but now that they were dating Felix was practically frothing at the mouth in anger. He tried to explain he missed due to ‘maintaining’ other equipment, but Felix spitefully told him not to bother with that if he wasn’t going to bother showing up for training.

The words sent Sylvain into one of his depressed spirals and he found himself at a tavern that evening nursing it with several pints. A pitiful two days without his boyfriend and he was already severely touch-starved. He struggled to say no to a small collection of women who propositioned him, anxious to fill his void, but thankfully knew better. Like anyone could fill the space Felix had carved into his life. He stumbled back to his dorm early and alone, crashing into bed, too drunk and tired to handle himself, thinking himself a failure for being unable to follow Felix’s instructions.

The next day was fraught with misery. He drummed his hand on his desk, tapping his leg impatiently, watching his boyfriend sitting in class taking notes. He mashed his lips together, willing the man to even just look back at him for a moment, recalling how he’d gifted a smile earlier in the week. Week? No, certainly it had to have been at least a year by now. How could he have expected him to last through til Friday on a singular smile alone. Asshole. Everywhere outside the room they’d spent together, Felix behaved as his old offstandish self, making snide remarks to him and their friends with no sign of their intimacy whatsoever. Sylvain was pretty sure he was dying.

After lecture the Professor asked him to stay back, commenting on how unfocused he seemed in class. Well, more unfocused than usual, as the Professor had clarified. They could read him like a book and he knew better than to lie to the Professor by this point. He assured them it was just his anxiety over a new relationship, and it should resolved by the weekend. He hoped. He’d let the Professor leave with whatever assumptions they wanted to make, but it was clear Felix was going to have to come to terms with his boyfriend’s needs. Sylvain was adamant being his fifth day of training babe wasn’t going to cut it.

He exited surprised to see Felix had waited up for him.

“What’s up with you, you’re more,” Felix paused, moving a hand over his general body, “jittery than normal. The Professor give you extra work or something?” It was the closest he’s stood to him since he’d kissed him goodbye on Sunday night. Sylvain looked down at him with lidded eyes, biting his lip to resist burrowing his face into his neck and hugging him tight. He’d already forgotten what he smelled like.

“No, uh, just having trouble—“ he stopped himself from saying ‘staying awake.’ There was no reason to be lying to Felix. He sighed and restarted, “I miss you.” A corner of Felix’s mouth upturned and it felt like tasting food made from ash. So close to what he desires, and yet mocking him with its existence. Sylvain wished to fill his boyfriend’s life with so much joy he’d only smile fully. Not these bullshit smirks and subtle far cries from a true grin. Wasn’t he enough for that?

“It’s one more evening Sylvain. You told me you’ve been maintaining. You’re doing good. I got big plans for tomorrow night,” he smirked and then looked away quickly, swallowing. “I should get going,” he said abruptly.

Sylvain grabbed him by the elbow, before he could get away. He was fairly certain everyone had gone to the dining hall by this point and he was far too touch starved to let him by. He needed a just a little something to hold him over. Nothing much. Just a hug. No. A kiss. A quick kiss. Yeah. He’d said he’d been good. That deserved something right?

He grabbed Felix’s face and pulled him into a scorching kiss.

Felix pushed him back aggressively, flames in his eyes. _Uh oh, maybe not the right call._ Sylvain lifted both arms up defensively. A finger jabbed into his chest, “I _told_ you, _nothing_ in public,” Felix hissed.

“I’m sorry, Fe. I’m just so fucking touch-starved for you. I thought—“ A hand dragged his wrist, pulling him towards the direction of the nearest alleyway. “I thought it’d be okay.” Felix shoved him against the wall, which would have been sexy as fuck had the fire raging in his eyes not been there.

He despaired. The look in his eyes was similar to when he’d gotten chewed out for missing training the day before. Of course he’d go and fuck up the one good thing he’s ever wanted. Felix was going to break up with him cause he couldn’t wait four stupid days. Worthless needy body he had. A damn whore. Unwanted. A dumb, walking Crest with a dick.

He still made the futile effort. He had amassed a multitude of scripts for this very moment. Just need to go through the motions. “No one was around to see, Felix. Please. Forgive me. Please, I’ll be good from now on.”

“That’s not the point, you idiot,” he hissed, catching him off guard. Usually their line would be something like ‘I’ll never forgive you,’ ‘you said that last time,’ or ‘I never should have gone out with you.’ Sylvain furled his eyebrows, confused.

“Please, Felix, whaaA-hh—“ teeth sunk into his neck. Felix had pounced on him, turning Sylvain’s pleading into moans. Fingers dipped into his mouth to which sucked contentedly, going quiet with low whimpers. Sylvain had no idea what was happening, but sure as shit wasn’t going to complain about it.

“Hng, need you s-so bad.” Felix pressed his hips into Sylvain’s thigh, his eyes flying wildly open with surprise, feeling Felix’s full erection. “Can’t resist you.” A hand reached around him, making quick work of his sash and pant laces. “I told you to stay off of me in the open,” he groaned, rocking into his leg. “I won’t stop. Need to see you come. Stay quiet for me, yes?” Sylvain nodded in shock, his own erection becoming painfully evident. He hadn’t made Felix mad? He’d made him...horny? Damn. He smiled around the fingers in his mouth with pride knowing he could make his boyfriend so hot and bothered.

Energized and on the same page finally, he grabbed Felix’s ass and aided his humping, pressing his thigh into him. Felix moaned passionately and Sylvain swears he could come just from hearing it.

The fingers were removed and hastily replaced with his mouth. The spit-slick hand burrowed into his drawers, grabbing onto his nearly full cock. Sylvain bit down on his lip to prevent a noise from leaving him, terrified of breaking Felix’s trust in him.

He squatted slightly against the wall, lifting Felix’s hips so they were now lined up better to fuck into each other’s hips. Normally, Felix would tease him endlessly, slowly bringing him close to climax before backing off with all the affection in the world, reveling in how he could undo him. Right now, however, he was on a mission to see how quick he could come, pumping him quick and firm, moaning into his mouth the way he loved.

After an opportune thrust of Sylvain’s hips, a hand snuck around his back, tentatively reaching between his butt cheeks. A question, perhaps? “Please, Felix,” He answered, sick of his own hands failing him. He needed him.

“No oil, ‘could hurt,” he grunted into his mouth, still grinding him. Sylvain pulled back from the kissing and presented an open mouth, tongue out.

Clearly captivated by the display, Felix slowly ceased grinding, completely forgetting about his own pleasure; a look of disbelief strewn across his face before being seized by a thrilled grin. The hand moved away from his back and two fingers were inserted into his mouth once more. He thought he heard Felix mumbling something, and only caught the last bit over his sloppy sucking: ’n’t deserve you.’ Sylvain gathered all the saliva he could muster around the fingers, with Felix hooking them upwards to scoop more on the way out.

His arm wrapped around his back once more, nudging him to switch places. Felix steadied himself against the wall, anchoring a shoulder into his peck. Sylvain draped himself over the man, placing a hand on the wall to sturdy himself, cursing at their height difference, wishing his face was closer to kiss.

He was okay with the sacrifice once a finger pressed inside him and a hand squeezed his dick. A heady moan left his mouth, brain too thick with arousal to be quick enough to smother it. He sheepishly looked down at Felix, ready to apologize, but saw him razor focused on getting him to climax. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint him and worked to keep his mouth closed, moans muted through gritted teeth.

He was right about the lack of oil making things uncomfortable. The spit was only able to do so much, but like the amazing lover Felix had proven himself to be, he backed off as soon as he sensed pain from Sylvain.

That’s not to say it wasn’t great. Just having Felix work him so hard, so desperately, in the middle of the day just outside their classroom, was more than making up for it.

A press of the finger inside him released another unescapable moan, sounding more pained and desperate than the last. Felix grunted, “So noisy.” His words not thick with threat, as he’d anticipated, but instead devotion. It filled Sylvain’s heart to the brim. Another press, this time in juncture with the one on his cock, sent Sylvain departing for the Goddess once more, begging for her out loud, face smacking flat onto the stone wall. He could feel Felix keeping him upright with his shoulder as the waves of pleasure flooded him.

He heard Felix shout something. 'Fuck off?' That seemed odd. Whatever. He was busy riding an orgasm.

Felix gingerly removed his fingers, and guided a slumped Sylvain to his knees. His head fell to rest against his hip bone, still breathing heavy, and nonchalantly brought a hand to pathetically stroke Felix’s still bulging cock. Felix pushed it out of the way, undoing his buckle and laces, scooting his breeches low enough to release it. “Do your worst.”

Sylvain looked up, words waking him to attention. Felix was biting his lip, eyes lidded and flickering between him and his cock. Sylvain had it in his mouth before he could think about what he was doing.

Which was great. 'Cause he had no clue. It was the first time he’s sucked dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile...  
> Felix enjoys being a coy little shit to his boyfriend, but has big insta-regret energy for the rest of the week.  
> Byleth notices Felix fighting style changes slowly from Mon to Thur, and is completely unsure of the source. Invites him to tea to figure it out. Instantly regrets it.  
> Ingrid decides she doesn't need friends or boys and that Marianne had it right the whole time, spends week talking to horses.  
> Claude spent the week prior recalibrating his gaydar. More than happy to have a viable excuse to stay out late in the Shadow Library. Slightly sour he never made a move on Sylvain.  
> Dimitri in corner with conspiracy board (separate from his Flame Emperor one) as to why all his friends are acting weird and not talking to him for what seems like entirely new reasons.  
> Dedue nodding along solemnly, already knowing Felix and Sylvain are fucking, but wishes for Dimitri to come to the conclusion himself (he's worked so hard on the board and wouldn't feel right to take it from him).
> 
> *****SPOILERY TRIGGER WARNING*****  
> TW heads up they will get caught next chapter but only after both parties are satisfied and completed.  
> *****SPOILERY TRIGGER WARNING*****


	6. Over Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Sylvain lacks in experience, he makes up for with enthusiasm. 
> 
> The Professor is not amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [There is now art based off this fic!!](https://twitter.com/NaughtyRabbit10/status/1310627474968137728) (nsfw clickthru) It's based off Sylvain and Felix's first night together. Please check out Naughty Rabbit @naughtyrabbit10 and give her a follow <3
> 
> cw for public blow job and getting caught shortly after the end of the act

He knew what it felt like. Obviously. So he had some ideas. But he’d been so eager at the chance to finally give Felix the attention he deserved, he might have over committed. Cause he immediately tried to take him all in, and ended up gagging.

Like a fool, he pulled back, coughing. He couldn’t help recalling a time a girl had done that to him. He’d been so annoyed he wouldn’t get off like he wanted and panic set in that Felix may be feeling the same.

Felix did laugh, but not at him. It was full of warmth and care. He looked up to see him smiling, and a hand came to rest on his cheek. “Just focus on the head and use your hands.”

He followed his advice, gripping his hand around the base and his mouth around the head. He had never really given a scrutinizing eye towards Felix’s dick before. Sure he’d watched him jack off on top of him, but he’d always been focused on his face. He liked watching how his eyes would softened around the corners, pupils completely blown out, scanning his body (the best ego boost when he did so), and always making eye contact before coming. Cause no matter how much he would deny it, Sylvain’s boyfriend was a romantic.

He liked seeing his breath quicken, and his muscles tighten up in a way that made him bite his lip, wishing it was his nipple instead. And he liked watching his throat bob as he panted, quickening to his climax. Sylvain was incredibly partial to Felix’s neck, so slender and long, and just so damn kissable. Jerk just had to cover it up with collars constantly, making it an incredible treat when they were alone. But with all that, he’d only ever given his boyfriend’s dick a cursory glance, mainly to check and see if he was close.

Now that it was in his mouth, however, it was challenging not to think about it in detail. He was shaped differently from himself, slightly narrower and longer. He had a curve placing him at a height that aligned perfectly with Sylvain’s mouth whilst on his knees, and for a split second he felt like it was made for him to do this, and he was made to do this. His neck pulsed with heat from the thought, and he pressed his eyes closed, cursing the minor insecurities he still had about being with a guy. Long fingertips combed through his hair and it took a moment for Sylvain to relax, realizing Felix didn’t intended to grip and pull him around, like he normally would.

“Stop thinking,” he whispered, caressing his scalp. Sylvain shushed his mind, altering his focus to the small noises Felix was making. Making because he was pleasuring him. Because he _wanted_ him to pleasure him. _Mm, yes,_ now he was back in business.

He suckled on his head, hand pumping with saliva that fell from his mouth, bringing more of him in with each pass. He pressed his tongue against the the head, giving it short strokes with his tongue. Felix’s breath hitched, followed by a staggered whimper. Shame he had just come; he wished he could be stroking himself to the soft song leaving his boyfriends lips. Another time then. Feeling experimental, he craned his head, tracing his tongue around the ridge of Felix’s pulsing dick. He heard him muttering, which only encouraged him to loop his tongue around in circles.

“No,” Felix quivered. “The other thing, do that.” Sylvain looked up to see his lover close to coming undone. Switching his tongue placement, he focused on staying steady, waiting for the moment Felix would spill over.

_Actually_.

Maybe it was time to take a play from his book.

With his free hand he jerked Felix’s drawers down further. He cupped his firm balls and traced a line back with his middle finger. Heated with sweat, he moved easily to find his target and pressed the pad of his fingertip against Felix’s hole. A sudden thrumming from Felix’s hand tangled in his hair was all the warning he received.

Like it mattered.

Sylvain Jose Gautier had no shame and he was all in.

Hot, salty liquid flooded his mouth in three bursts and Sylvain had to react quickly to remove his hand from his asshole to catch him from falling over. He was perfectly silent save for a slight initial grunt and heavy breathing. Sylvain found himself both envious and jaded by the little noise Felix made.

The sound of gravel crunching nearby alerted him. Quickly he detached his mouth and pulled up Felix’s drawers, not realizing in time his own ass was still hanging out. Felix was still weak limbed and it was either drop him or pull up his own pants.

It was an easy choice.

On the way up, Felix in tow, he breathed in wrong and ended up choking on a mixture of his own saliva and Felix’s spent. Needing to breath, he hastily spit out the load, coughing. He instantly regretted it. Looking up he could see he had done so in front of the Professor, trailed by Lorenz. The two not looking like they had accidentally found them.

“Ugh!” Lorenz looked away in disgust, “How unbecoming.”

“Oh hey, Professor,” he said, coughing and trying to sound completely casual and not like he’d just been found giving head (and totally not choking on cum). Outside their classroom. Midday. On Church grounds.

The punishment for this wasn’t going to be good.

The Professor’s green hair moved in the breeze. They typically weren’t one to express themselves outwardly, but day by day since the incident they had been becoming more expressive. Seeing their stoic gaze turn into a murderous frown was not the highlight of Sylvain’s tutelage under Byleth. Felix’s head rested on his shoulder, and he could sense his breathing had returned to mostly normal.

“Put yourselves together,” They said sternly. Sylvain moved to steady Felix up, but he jerked away from him, not wanting the help and bruising Sylvain severely in the process. Was he pissed at him now that the horny was gone?

“My office. Now.” They side stepped to motion Felix and Sylvain take lead. “You too, Lorenz.” He choked out a guttural noise at his mention. Sylvain was plenty crass, but he knew when to shut up when it truly matter. Evidently, Lorenz did not have this ability.

“But Professor, I can’t possibly be in trouble here. I merely brought the public indecency to your attention.”

“Now!” they said with a tone leaving zero wiggle room for complaints.

The four of them made their way to the Professor’s office. Sylvain chanced a look at Felix, still feeling like he might have ruined things with him. Even more so now they had been caught.

He was mostly looking at the ground, one hand (yup, _that_ one) was shoved into a pocket. His raven hair draped around his face—when had his hair fallen out? Sylvain cursed himself for finding it so damn sexy, dick twitching to life again for seconds. _Come on dude, really don’t need this right now_.

Sharp amber eyes pierced the veil of raven hair in his direction, meeting his own shit-brown eyes. A smile flashed, shortly followed by him biting his lip and looking Sylvain down and up. Him. Checking him out. Was his soul departing his body? No, it felt too active for that. His heart quickened, heat rising to his checks in the most betraying manner ever. Oh wait, no, most betraying was his dick, now _demanding_ seconds at him. _Shut up! The Professor is right there dammit._

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

Stone-faced, Felix brought a ribbon out of his pocket (yes, with _that_ hand). He threaded his slender fingers through his hair, collecting the strands to pull back into a knot, tilting his head back to do so and thus exposing his neck. All while keeping eye contact with him through the corners of his eyes. Shit. Sylvain was mesmerized. Flames he would swear he was putting on a show for him. Had to be. He was moving too slow.

He only noticed his jaw was hanging open 'cause it smashed suddenly on his tongue. Staring at Felix he’d managed to trip over something while walking, taking a few jogging steps to catch himself.

“Eyes front,” the Professor warned.

Felix didn’t look at him again.

* * *

“You’re lucky I’m not Seteth,” the Professor said, not having bothered to even take their seat. They loomed over from behind the desk, arms outstretched, eyes full of daggers.

“That means you’re going to take it easy on your favorite students, right?” Sylvain said hopeful. Him and Felix had been instructed to sit, whereas Lorenz hovered beside them. Man looked downright giddy to be watching them receive their punishment. Sylvain silently prayed the man didn't get off on this stuff.

“Hardly,” they replied.

“Oh, come on I’ve been caught in far more compromising positions,” he pleaded. It was also only slightly true. He’d rank this number two.

Felix turned sharply to him, a look of scowling disgust. Lorenz scoffed, rolling his eyes and muttering something. But the Professor? They merely closed their eyes, and slowly opened them again.

Sylvain got the impression they were trying to remove the image of him blowing Felix from their head, and failed. He stayed silent after that.

“You,” pointing to Felix, “are off this month’s mission.”

“What? You need me,” Felix protested. “You said so yourself.”

“Clearly you find yourself needing _other_ things instead,” they said with a head incline to Sylvain. He swallowed, looking away, not because he felt guilty, but because he was trying to hid his gloating. Felix huffed, averting his gaze from the Professor now and also staying silent after that. “Additionally,” they added, “I will not be entertaining your requests for a duel until further notice. Instead you will be attending Hanneman’s _nightly_ seminars on dark magic until next moon.”

Sylvain could feel the seething in the seat next to him. He’d been complaining the Professor wanted to push him away from his interests (interests? No, interest. Singular. Stupid, sexy sword boy), before they’d gotten together. Sylvain didn’t see the big issue. The Professor had a knack for picking out special talents in them. Ashe had been downright pathetic with a lance before they had convinced him for some private lessons. Now he was almost as good a lancer as Sylvain was.

Satisfied with the misery they’d caused, they moved onto Sylvain. “And you.” He still managed to flinch despite it just being a finger pointed in his direction. He blamed his brother for that. “You will be switching rooms with Dedue effective immediately. You will have a 7pm curfew of which I will be personally checking to ensure you are in your room, _alone,_ and studying. Need it reminding you’ve failed your great knight assessment twice already.” He winced at that. Felix had been telling him the same thing earlier when he’d missed on training. “I’m also assigning you to weeding duty until further notice and I’ll be having Ingrid join you to keep an eye on you.” Felix let out a strained sigh at mention of her name.

“Professor, please," Sylvain begged. "I accept full responsibility for these tasks and punishment, but _please_ anyone but Ingrid.”

“Oh,” they said flatly, “Does it make you uncomfortable for her to be assigned with you?” They actually sounded concerned.

“Yes,” he sighed in relief. Sometimes the Professor just gets it.

They closed their eyes again for a moment, opening them slowly. “Then it sounds like my punishment is serving its purpose. You’re assigned to weeding with Ingrid for the remainder of the term.”

Fuck.

“And Lorenz,” they sighed. He actually had the gall of bring a hand up to his chest, _me?_ “I meant it when I said Seteth was lucky to have not found them. This affects my reputation too. I expect full discretion. I will remind you I am excellent friends with Professor Manuela and I have heard you have a distinct knack for prose.”

“Ah-h-h, say no more Professor.” He looked, embarrassed? Sylvain filed that away for later. “You have my word as Heir to House Gloucester, your superb reputation as Professor will not be tarnished by these two,” he sneered down, “licentious noblemen.”

“That’s enough, Lorenz. You’re dismissed.”

From his tone, Sylvain trusted Lorenz wouldn’t dare let it slip to Seteth, but there was no way the entirety of the Golden Deer wouldn’t know about their relationship before the end of the week.

The three of them sat in silence for what felt like ten minutes, but was likely only ten seconds. The awkwardness drawing time to a stand-still. The Professor threw their arms up into the air, scoffing. “I feel like I should be giving you chamberpot scrubbing duty or—something.” They looked at a loss. “Isn’t that what punishments are supposed to be?” They sighed, avoiding eye contact with them now, sinking into their chair. It had certainly felt like they’d been punished enough. Sylvain pursed his lips, perhaps feeling a touch of shame for the first time at disappointing them.

“We can do that if you want,” he offered sweetly.

“You’ve given us plenty,” Felix rebuked at the same time. The two glared at each other, their statements foiling each other’s strategy.

The Professor sighed, pinching their nose, “Look, I don’t care what you do on your free days, but as representatives of the Blue Lions, behavior like that will _not_ be tolerated. Keep it _behind_ doors. If I see anything more than hand holding I’ll—ah—I’ll figure something out!” They finished, exasperated. Sylvain wondered just how much of what was said before was a merely a show for His Sir Nobleman Lordship of His Royal Alliance House Gloucester. He smiled. The Professor can’t be all that mad at them. He bets they’re be back to normal after this moon.

He turned to Felix, “You hear that, babe? Professor says we can hold hands.” He waggled his eyebrows at him, only slightly teasing. They hadn’t yet held hands. It’d be nice to do so before Ingrid dug their graves.

“You idiot,” his boyfriend responded. Sylvain smiled. It wasn’t a no! He turned back to the Professor, awaiting their dismissal. They’re eyes were closed yet again, hand massaging their eyelids. A moment goes by as they continued to massage their eyes, the silence deafening.

“ _Right_ next to my classroom, Sylvain!?” They exploded, in a shocking show of emotions.

“What-a-ah? You’re blaming _me!?”_ Felix was the one who pulled him into that alleyway! He expected to hear a snicker from the seat next to him, but nothing.

Shit.

Sylvain did kiss him first…

A tired scoff, and a wave of a hand, “ _Dismissed_.”

* * *

“Soo…” Sylvain scratched the back of his neck. Him and Felix had walked down to the Reception Hall together in silence. “Want to grab lunch?” Felix turned and walked away from him in silence. “Whoa! Hey! Wait up!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sylvain,” he said, over his shoulder. The statement confused him. Tomorrow? The only thing of note on his calendar for tomorrow was sexy Felix's surprise reward day.

“I got a 7pm curfew remember?”

“In _class,_ you idiot.” Ah. Yes. Of course. Stupid one track mind of his.

“Ah, Right,” he mumbled bashfully. He looked up to see Felix had still been moving. He jogged once again to meet up with him, sensing a grumble coming from him. “Hey. I’m sorry you got taken off the mission. I really am. I should have taken you more seriously. I’m sorry, I just—”

“Stop.” Felix halted his movement, looking right at him, arms crossed.

“What?”

“Apologizing.”

“But this is my fault.”

“No it’s not.” Sylvain pulled his head back. There’s no possible scenario where any of this was his boyfriend’s fault. Even the Professor knew that. He pulled him in for that kiss out in the open. Not Felix. It was one of the first things he’d asked of him before they agreed to date. Nothing out in the open. And he failed. Just like he’d fail to maintain himself. Worthless boyfriend he was, even when he’s trying. “Don’t give me that face.” Sylvain looked up, having not realized he’d gotten so sullen.

“I’m sorry, Felix. I—“

“I said stop apologizing.” Sylvain watched him huff and skew his jaw side-to-side. Something was brewing under his skin and Sylvain had next to no guesses as to what. His amber eyes shifted around quickly, noting who was nearby. They weren’t alone. Lunch was breaking and some students were making their way to their daily assignments. “I’m not talking about this here. This was not your doing. It’s mine.” Sylvain went to protest, but Felix jabbed a threatening finger in his direction. “And because I know that dumb brain of yours, you won’t listen to that so,” he paused, looking flustered and Sylvain watched his face go through a myriad of emotions in a matter of seconds.

He felt like it was one of those rare nights where the stars seemed to fall across the sky. Beautiful, and a moment to savor for it was unlikely to happen again in the same decade. Felix morphed from looking like he wanted to kiss him, to slap him, to wanting to slap himself, back to kiss him (nice), definitely a desire to punch something (and not Sylvain. Small victory), mourning, and finally an actual, affectionate smile so quick Sylvain thanked himself for not blinking.

Avoiding eye contact, and in a voice barely a whisper, he said, “I don’t regret it,” and then louder, “Go get some lunch, I’m going to train.”

The stunning display left his feet firmly planted to the ground, his mind trying to instantly replay the delightful show of emotions he’d just witnessed. He might not be getting that promised reward tomorrow, but this had felt like one in its own rights. Things like that were what Sylvain really craved and truly missed. Some of his only fond childhood memories were the adventures he went on with Felix. He’d tell him wild stories of beasts and heroes, the more dramatic, the better, for the reactions he could elicit out of the younger boy—the joy he could bring others, when his own life was so miserable—it all just made him feel worthwhile. _He_ makes him feel worthwhile. Shit. He was starting to feel like he wanted to cry.

He hadn’t known how long he’d been standing there when he’d been interrupted.

“It seems you did not heed His Highness’s warning regarding your actions,” Dedue said. “The Professor has informed me we are to be switching room assignments for the time being. We are to be collecting our things immediately.” Sylvain smiled up at him.

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly one for heeding anything," he shrugged. "Come on, let’s go!”

“You seem disproportionately happy for someone who has recently received punishment.” Sylvain smiled bigger. Felix hadn’t regretted it. While Sylvain hadn’t either, hearing it from Felix meant he was now willing do it all over again next week so long as his boyfriend wanted to.

“His Highness said it himself! I’ve known no shame, Dedue. I don’t plan on starting now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth after they leave: _puts hands on face, tilts head back, and screams_  
>  Sothis, if she was still around: even I have a headache from those two  
> Later they ask Manuela if she recommends bleaching her eyes. Together, they get drunk instead.


	7. Horny Depression Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was teetering between two dangerous mindsets. On one hand, depression spiral. But on the other hand? Horny.
> 
> Might as well pick the fun one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the feedback and love! This has been a lot of fun to write. 
> 
> A few updates...  
> Chapter updates may be slowing down next week due to real life events, but 8 should be out on Friday!  
> Also, I am fully incapable of writing short things and this will likely be longer than 10 chapters. Heh. Whoops. More Sylvain being in love with Felix's smile! =)

The Professor had checked for him inside Dedue’s (now his) room before the seventh bell had finished tolling for the evening. They’d laid out specific items for him to study and somehow it had turned into a two hour private lesson before they’d bother leaving for the night. How does someone as attractive as the Professor have no where to be in the evenings?

He looked at the books strewn open across the desk. Seriously, why’d there have to be so many freaking types of armor out there? And why did he have to know which buckles were over-lip clasps and which shape hip piece was best against ‘diagonally upswung axe blows done in the manner of Dagdan-style infantry?’ This was some squire-level shit that Sylvain never had the honor of doing cause he was too busy defending the border from Srengi guerrilla attacks.

Felix would know, though. He’d been Dimitri’s squire through the Western Rebellion. And he’d seen His Highness’s armor before too—a complicated piece of art. Felix would know all about which armor piece dons first, the specific clasps and ties, how best to secure everything in place…He’d bet he could secure him down nicely in a great set of armor. He’d likely take his time too, tracing his fingers along his body, placing a small kiss before setting the piece. _Y_ _es._

Sylvain decided he wouldn’t mind if Felix secured the pieces too tight.

And then he quickly abandoned the idea of armor at all. Just the ties to hold him down. Then Felix could really got to town on him, and he’d probably enjoy watching him struggle. Maybe he’d tie is legs spread open, so he couldn’t fight him off…

_BANG_

_BANG_

_BANG_

“I know you’re in there Sylvain. Get up!” Ingrid’s voice shouted through the door. He groaned, hand slapping to his face. He sat up from the desk where he had fallen asleep at after jerking himself. The Professor’s borrowed books were still laid out, all depicting diagrams of complicated armor. His whole body ached from the uncomfortable sleep position.

“Don’t make me bust down this door!” She banged louder. He was absolutely certain that wasn’t an empty threat. He’d seen her fixing up Bernadetta’s door two moons prior.

“Yeah, yeah give me a moment!” He quickly washed his face with some water from the basin, and changed his soiled small clothes and shirt. He opened the door, “What?”

She scoffed, “It’s Friday, and some idiot got me reassigned to weeding duty.”

“Huh, wonder who that could be, sounds like a jerk,” he said flippantly and pretended to close the door on her. She stuck her foot in to prevent him.

“That jerk is you!”

* * *

They spent the early morning clearing out an overgrown field near the Cathedral. He worked hard to keep the conversation away from himself. No way was he letting her suss out the reasoning for his punishment. Maybe the Professor did him a solid and told her enough to satisfy her curiosity, without revealing the details and with whom.

“Doesn’t House Galatea have a whole slew of goats to do this kind of work?” His hips were already screwed from sleeping weird, and now his back was killing him from hunching over.

“We do. Why? Would you prefer to be _eating_ the weeds instead?”

“Huh? No, I’m not Dimitri—“

“I’ve already told you, Dimitri doesn’t eat the weeds!”

He laughed, “Well, Dedue thought it a necessary concern.” She seemed thoroughly irritated. Good. Maybe she’d go pull weeds in the opposite corner of the field and not interrogate him.

“What exactly did you and Felix do to get so punished the Professor had to drag me and Dedue into it?” _Whoops_. Bringing up Dedue hadn’t been a good call at all.

“Uh, you know, usual stupid stuff.” Kissing each other, getting each other hard, coming so hard you— _Stop. Thinking. Sylvain._

“A 7pm curfew isn’t usual stupid punishment material. Neither is getting taken off the mission. You didn’t drag him into one of your ridiculous schemes to bed some girls did you?”

“Not exactly.” More like bed each other. _Saints, don’t get hard._

 _“I knew it!_ You leave Felix out of that! He’s actually dedicated to his training, unlike some lazy person I know. He works hard, gets his tasks done on time--” has dreamy eyes, a hot bod, does _amazing_ work with his hands. _Fuck, calm down dude._

His dick shot back, _dare you to stop thinking of him then. That’s right, you can’t._ He shrugged at his own stalemate, conceding to having a chub while weeding, but Ingrid interpreted the shrug as apathy. She made a noise and stormed off to pull weeds elsewhere. Fucking finally.

He went the rest of the day not seeing Felix. A massive disappointment considering Friday night was supposed to be something great. He was so bored inside his room he _willingly_ studied…only after debauching himself twice. Eventually, with nothing else to do, he fell asleep at a time too early for resting, tossing and turning from nightmares. The pain in his back woke him up sometime in the early hours and, unable to go back to sleep, he pulled out a copy of Bernadetta’s story to read until daybreak.

* * *

Saturday the Professor pulled him for an ancillary battle with some bandits who had set up camp on the Magdred Way. It was an easy and quick fight, but he, in his tiredness, had misguided his horse and she had misstepped into a ditch, jerking him mid-reach with his lance, tweaking his shoulder. It wasn’t an injury or anything, but didn’t stop it from nagging him anytime he lifted his arm. His back ached from bending over weeding yesterday. His hip didn’t feel great either, especially after riding for so long. Man, is this what it feels like to get old? He barely had time to spend a half hour at the sauna before crashing into bed for his curfew, completely exhausted and not having seen Felix yet again.

He slept terribly for a second night. Dedue’s room was so much noisier than his, people passing by outside his door at what felt like all hours. He’d been in a paralyzed fugue state, half asleep, half awake, loathing every second of it. Sprinkled between his typical nightmares he heard some loud conversation about a chick’s love letter going ignored, people yelling at friends to wait up, and at some point Raphael bellowing good morning to the Professor. He slammed a pillow over his face, hoping he could get rest that didn’t involve noise or being at the bottom of a well again, only vaguely aware each time the chapel bells tolled.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock._

He made an inhuman noise. He sat up, head pounding. “Go away Ingrid! I’m sleeping in!” It was free day, damnit.

A pause.

Silence. Good. Back to sleep.

_Knock, knock._

_Knock._

He growled, tossing his covers, not bothering to put on a shirt and opened the door, back and shoulder protesting the whole event.

“I said I’m sleeping—Felix?” The cool, sharp features of the slender man faced him. A look of equal surprise reflected back at him.

“Tch. It’s nearly noon, put on a shirt,” he said, but it was too late. He was already blushing. Sylvain thanked the Goddess for granting him natural bedroom beauty. He opened the door wider, leaning on the frame, to show himself off more. His shoulder began to protest the movement and, on second thought, he opted to lean his back against the frame instead, crossing his arms to puff up his biceps and pecks. Some girls behind Felix stopped to stare at him. He waved casually.

“Hey ladies!” They blushed, giggled and ran off. He looked back at Felix. Who was blushing, not giggling and while not running, was mostly definitely walking away. “Hey! Did you really just wake me up to walk away!?” He watched his boyfriend spin on his heel back at him. He spoke, whole demeanor changing. He stood taller, chin lifted, and amber eyes demanding his full attention in a way that was making his knees weak.

With a sly smile, “I did. I’ll be in my room.”

His heart skipped with understanding.

He rushed to get dressed, gingerly donning his jacket. Dumb shoulder was feeling worse than yesterday. He stopped by the dining hall to grab a quick meal, wrapping some dry goods as a snack for later so him and Felix could spend most the day together.

“Hey, man! Open up!” He said in front of Felix’s door. He was holding the snacks in his good arm and didn’t want to risk knocking with his bad.

“You could have knocked,” his cute, grumpy boyfriend said. Anticipation tingled his lips and dick at him soon turning into a cute, smiling boyfriend.

“Nah, I brought snacks so we can hang out longer.”

“‘Hang out?’ Is that what we do?” Sylvain dropped the goods on his desk.

“Yeah, you know--” He walked over grabbing Felix by his belt loops, and kissed his neck very lightly, his hand stroked over Felix’s crotch, “ _hanging,”_ he said, unbuckling him, “out.” Felix made a cut-off throated noise, pushing Sylvain's head away in a teasing manner. “What? Was that not good?”

“Terrible.”

“Aw, come on, I thought it was good.” He ripped the belt away completely from him.

“Awful.” Felix nibbled on his ear.

“You’re not turned on?” He kissed his neck, undoing the laces on his breeches. He was definitely turned on.

“I think I’d have a better time with those girls you flirted with,” Felix said crossly. Pants loose, he moved to get Felix out of his vest and shirt.

“Ouch. Point taken, babe.”

A hand grabbed him by his jaw. The movement was sudden, forcing him to back off his unbuttoning tasking. He swallowed, feeling Felix’s palm against his throat. Felix looked up at him with a scowl twitching on his lip.

“Enough,” he said calmly, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the pet name you used in front of the Professor either.” He gently tossed him aside, and sat on the bed to begin taking of his shoes.

Goddess he was tired. He knows better, he was just relaxing into a regular routine and it came out. He didn’t even recall the time with the Professor. Saints, maybe he should have gone back to bed. 'Specially if he was going to fuck up his relationship with Felix.

“Sorry, Felix. I’m just—“

“And didn’t I say to stop apologizing too?” He hissed. _Thunk._ He dropped the shoes onto the floor.

Sylvain paused, willing his mind to be still. He was teetering between two dangerous mindsets. On one hand, depression spiral. His body ached, he got next to no sleep, and the sleep he did get was wrecked with nightmares. But on the other hand? Horny.

Might as well pick the fun one.

He raked his brain for what to say. 'Cause really he just wanted to say sorry again. Sorry he’s thoughtless. Sorry he slept in. Sorry he doesn’t train enough. That he can’t pass his exams and doesn’t care to study for them either. That he’s a shitty boyfriend who can’t follow his lover’s wishes. _Stop it, man. Thought we were picking horny-time. Not stay-in-bed-forever-time._

“You know, I didn’t say to shut up,” Felix said, eyes loaded with suspicion.

“I—“ _Don’t say sorry again you dimwit. “_ What can I do to make it up to you?”

Yes, yes, yes. Sylvain had stumbled upon some magic words. Felix’s whole face lit up, eyes flashing with possibilities. His smile was medicine to his soul, easing his anxieties. Sorry demons, Felix was smiling at him and that means to get the fuck right off. Today was their free day. And they could do whatever they wanted. And Felix wanted him.

“You could start by getting shirtless again,” Felix said, swaying seductively on the bed. Sylvain took off his jacket, being careful not to tweak his shoulder, acutely aware his boyfriend was drinking him all in. He moved to unbutton his shirt, weary of pulling it over his head. He was…quite unused to taking of his shirt in this manner. Who the hell made these buttons so small?

Felix walked up to him, kissing his neck hotly. “Need some help?” Hand pulled his shirt out from his breeches and reached underneath, fingering over his stomach. Felix kissed him passionately on the lips and Sylvain melted into him. Goddess, he missed him. He can’t believe he’s gone this long without a kiss. Felix pulled the shirt above his head, arms lifting and—

“AH-h!” Sylvain yelped and hissed at the sharp pain emanating from his shoulder, scrunching his face. He quickly massaged the cramp out, opening his eyes gingerly, as if he expected to see an arrow sticking out from it.

There was no arrow, but there was a Felix sporting a grave look of concern.

Heh.

Cute.

“Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

“Ah, it’s fine. Just tweaked my shoulder yesterday in battle.” Felix grabbed a chair.

“Sit. Let me look at it.”

“Really, It’s okay, I just need to rest it.”

“I said sit.” He relented, sitting down in the chair. Least his hip was feeling better. Felix kissed his cheek in acknowledgment, took off his vest fully, unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them up. Rummaging around in a drawer he pulled out a small book, one that fits easily in a single hand, and opened to a page with some magic written on it. Felix recited the words, matching the hand gestures on the page, and Sylvain watched as a small white circle of light surrounded his hand, runes sparkling and rotating along the edge. Felix tossed the book onto the bed with a carelessness, careful eyes focused on his shoulder.

“Since when did you do white magic?” Sylvain asked. Felix merely shushed him. Sylvain looked at him, deep in concentration. He loved it when Felix would look at his body, but this felt different. He studied him, guiding the white magic around his shoulder, runes spinning around his fingers, changing shape as it guided down his arm, and then shifted once more to move around to his pectoral. He was being observed, but not in the way battlefield healers would. Mercedes certainly shared the same look of concentration Felix had, but he also looked…Heat flushed to his face and the feeling of wanting to cry hit his sinuses. He leaned in to kiss Felix, but right as he did so, he moved behind him.

A hand traced down his spine. Sylvain let out a soft sigh, blinking back the tears, unsure why they sprouted in the first place; feeling the muscles slightly release with the tracing touch. Two thumbs pressed gently into a hard spot in the middle of his spine. He let out a pained moan.

“Your shoulder pain is stemming from a strained muscle along your spine, here,” Felix said, pressing the spot again. Sylvain shuddered. “Was your back bothering you too?”

“Yeah, weeding that damn field with Ingrid was a pain in multiple ways. I also kind of fell asleep at my desk the night before. Whole body didn’t like that one,” he chuckled.

“Sylvain, you need to listen to your body. You can’t go out onto the battle field like that.” Oh no, he was so not in the mood for a lecture. This was supposed to be horny-time. _Deflect_.

“Hey I’m not saying you don’t have a great touch. 'Cause you got a great touch, but that didn’t feel like a healing spell, and I don’t recall _you_ attending Professor Manuela’s lectures.”

“The old man,” he said, referring to his father, “He taught me some small useful things before I came here. Nothing good for the battlefield, but it’s useful for figuring out problems before they become injuries. Unlike what _you_ did.” He spoke while digging through the nightstand, taking out a large bottle of oil. Sylvain’s dick stirred just from the sight.

“Oh, I am _so_ down for this form of punishment, Fe.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to massage it out, stupid. Lie on your stomach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HeS GoInG tO MAsSaGe It oUT. 
> 
> Consider giving me a follow on twitter @fearlesswindy1 for updates and other fic goodies. I also have an omegaverse sylvix (omega sylvain/alpha felix) updating in tangent with this story. 
> 
> Sylvix week 2020 is sadly over but be sure to click on the collections page to read many other amazing stories!
> 
> As always, love the kudos and comments!  
> No, you're breathtaking!


	8. Definitely just a Massage and Nothing Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boyfriends doing boyfriend things like caring for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tag added, so be sure to check it out!
> 
> Thanks again for all the love!

He lied down on his bed, head turned sideways to watch Felix prepare beside him. He ceremoniously put his hair up neatly, Sylvain’s dick twitching once more at the sight, thinking he was about to get pleasured. In a way he was, he guessed, and let his eyes trace his lover’s body. His breeches were still undone from before, hanging loose around his bottom and just begging to be pulled off. Felix caught his hungry eyes and smirked.

Sylvain returned the smile and watched as Felix pulled off his shirt. He soaked in his gorgeous body. There was this hate/love relationship Sylvain had with Felix’s abs. He wished so badly he could have muscle definition like that, but at the same time he merely just wanted to put his hands all over him. Took him ages to recognize the second emotion. Now he easily allowed himself to settle on lust.

“Didn’t know the masseuse had to be topless for the massage as well,” Sylvain flirted. Felix giggled. Sylvain blinked, making sure he was awake. _I’m sorry_. Felix _giggled_? His brain was having issues accepting that. He leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek once more. Proximity revealing just how heated his cheeks had gotten.

“A small reward for such a good boyfriend.” His chest pounded against the mattress and he lifted his hips to adjust his growing erection. So rarely did Felix call him that and, Goddess, when he did, his desires ran wild. Felix swung a leg over him, mounting him right below his ass. No wait, he adjusted his hips _into_ his ass, settling down into position. Sylvain froze, blushing, he suspected, harder than a bride on their wedding night.

“Saints, Felix. Fuck the massage. Just use me.” Felix giggled again. So he hadn’t been imagining it. He couldn’t see him, but he bet he was smiling. His heart picked up as a cool liquid poured onto his back.

“Patience.” Another rock into him. Was he talking to him or himself? Another rock. Sylvain’s vision blurred and he instinctually spread his legs as much as he could with Felix sitting on top of him.

“You just wanted to get on top of Fodlan’s finest ass.” Hands pressed along his spine. He moaned into a deep sigh.

“You’re not wrong.” A broad stroke from the heel of his hand swept from the mass of muscle in his back up to his shoulder. He repeated the motion slowly and diligently, adding pressure each pass. “But I’m more concerned about your back. I won’t be there to protect you during the mission this month.” The pressure increase, pushing air out of his lungs now. A gross moan left his lips, drooling into the pillow. “And no offense to Fodlan’s finest ass, but you kind of look like shit.”

“I take full offense, but my ass will forgive you if grind into it more.” A singular press into him, and then nothing save for the continued massage on his back. Selfish jerk.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Felix stated, words minced with a deeper familiarity. While they were lovers now, they’d been friends for years and Felix knew all about Miklan and nightmares he'd gifted him with.

“No,” he agreed hesitantly. The broad hands on his back changed to precise fingertips. Sylvain winced in slight pain, before relaxing back into the bed. “Same nightmare, but now I’m waking up from this pain—sss’ah—or because Dedue’s bedroom—mmph—is in the middle of the freaking dining hall so it—Ah, yeah right there.” Felix slowly wiggled his fingers along a rib and hit a sweet spot. Felix hummed pleasantly in acknowledgment.

Sylvain closed his eyes. This really did feel great. Hands gliding across his back. So relaxed. With Felix. Maybe he could drift off…

Hips grinding gently into him woke him back up. “You seem relaxed. Is this helping?”

“Mrph.” His face was smashed into the pillow, tiredness slurred his words, “yesh Phelicks. Sho gud.”

“Hrm, I not sure I got everywhere,” He teased, fingers dipping into his drawers, grazing his ass. “Mind if I keep going?”

“Goddessh, yesh pleash.” Felix dismounted, scooting down on the bed. He lifted his foot, taking off his boots, and shoved his breeches up his leg to place loving kisses on his calves, fingers threading through the hair. A few tugs of fabric later and Sylvain was, as he preferred, completely nude in his boyfriend’s bed. Too bad he’d been relaxed so much he was falling asleep.

Felix did not mount him again, but instead sat between his thighs, pressing them further open. His head shifted as one of the pillows was removed and placed under his hips.

“Hope you’re fine with me destroying that,” Sylvain said lazily. Felix didn’t respond. _Hrmph. Fine. Enjoy your pillow full of my cum then._

Hands still slick with oil gripped his ass, spreading him wide. Thumbs traced down to his balls and back up, Sylvain’s breath hitching both times he passed over his hole. The rush of adrenaline hit him, but not as thick and heavy as he’s used to. He frowned, sleep was really trying to pull him down. Didn’t help Felix continued the motion, slowly down and up his crack. It was just as relaxing as it was enticing.

“Felix, and I mean this in the best way possible, I need you to speed things up or I’m going to pass out.” Felix squeezed harder, but stayed silent, still tracing down and up. It now hardly registered each time fingers passed his hole. Saints, he wished he could see his face. “I mean you’re welcome to play with my ass if I do, just, like, wake me if you want anything inside, yeah?” A finger pressed past his second ring of muscles. _Wait, what?_ Had he been so relaxed he not notice the initial intrusion? Evidently. He moaned, eyes closed, humping ever so slightly into the pillow.

Pressure returned to his sore back, moving through the same lines as before. Meanwhile, the thumb (if he had to guess) inside him gently worked its way deeper until it could no more. It was heavenly. Sylvain rocked with instinct, mind floating freely behind his closed eyes, not thinking about anything in specific, just feeling the warm blush through his whole body.

The digit was removed, Sylvain barely conscious to whine at it. Grabby hands kneaded his ass, spreading him wider. A passing thought grazed his awareness. He’d totally let Felix fully take him right now. Zero complaints. Just let him fuck him into oblivion. Oh, Saints, yes that’d be great.

Nope. Scratch that. One complaint. He’s not awake enough to fully enjoy it too. Damn how these two weeks had changed him. He sighed wistfully.

A wave of pleasure shot up him. Sylvain opened his mouth, turning his sigh into a longing moan. Something warm and wet—his tongue? Oh, Goddess. He flushed. That was allowed? Felix was eating him out—there’s no way it was also called that on dude. Maybe? Like he’d know. Saints, it felt lovely though. Another moan left him, this time more needy and waking him to his senses. He could feel Felix’s tongue moving in slow circle around his hole, sending beautiful tickles down his spine. Hands snaked around to his hip bones and he pulled him in firmly to his face, tongue pressing inside.

“Felix!? What-ah?” He tried to turn back to look at him to no avail. Unable to take it any longer, he swung his good arm under himself to stroke his pulsing cock, bending a knee to hoist himself up for space. Felix stayed latched onto him through the movement, grunting in time with his strokes. A hand left his hip, and the pillow beneath him was quickly removed. He smiled, a chuckle stuttering from a heavy breath. That asshole. He did care about him ruining it.

The grip on his ass was relentless, pushing his tongue greedily into him. Sylvain worked to keep up with his pumping, but his movements were sluggish. Didn’t help he was doing this with his off hand either. He grunted through panting breaths. For Felix pleasuring him, he was being astoundingly quiet. Maybe it was because he was having to focus on himself as well, or maybe it because he was so tired. Whatever the reason, he could sense Felix’s frustration. Despite Sylvain being close, he pulled away from him.

“Come, come, you’ve been noisier than that,” Felix’s silky voice purred in his ear. Sylvain grunted louder in effort, hand moving faster on his dick. Felix made a noise in disapproval. “Tsk, tsk…here--” Two fingers slid inside him, hooking straight into _that_ spot, “Is this helping?”

Instantly, Sylvain shouted, his load spewing out beneath him. A hand replaced his, exhausting the rest of him out as Sylvain moaned Felix’s name into the bed, and soon collapsed.

A thousand kisses sprinkled his ass. Sylvain struggled to keep his mind aware of them.

“Get on your back,” Felix said gently, coaching him with his hands. A towel was placed where he’d spilled his spent. He must be moving in slow motion for Felix to have placed it there. Finally on his back, Felix tucked his arms to his chest, making sure his bad shoulder wouldn’t be in an odd spot as unconsciousness called him. He felt a kiss on his forehead, unaware his eyes had been closed until then.

“You’re so beautiful, Sylvain,” Felix said softly, fingers running through his hair. “I’ll keep you safe. Go to sleep.” He pictured Felix smiling down at him.

_Love you._

* * *

A distant crackling noise rustled at the edge of his consciousness. It happened once more before his awareness was pulled towards it, a gentle sparkling light behind his eyelids joining the noise before dying down again. A third time was enough for him to rustle in his bed, feeling the linen sheets against his bare skin. His eyes slowly opened to view an unfamiliar room configuration and a purple glow against the walls.

He turned his head on his pillow to see Felix seated at his desk, back facing him. That’s right. He’s in Felix’s room. His boyfriend's arm was lifted to his side, hand attempting to steady a purple magic circle that was struggling to take its full form. Sylvain recognized the foundational dark magic rune. Felix just needed to move his thumb—oh. He shifted his hips, recalling where that thumb had been earlier. A dorky smile possessed his face.

He continued to watch his boyfriend study. The ruin sputtered out, and Felix sighed with slight anger, flipping through pages of notes, searching for an answer. A hand threaded through his hair, a portion falling out of the loose bun, resting along his neck. He was so focused he didn’t notice, but Sylvain fixated on it. He was still shirtless, large freckles dotting his back like a constellation making his raven hair look like a shooting star against the pale skin. Sylvain couldn’t help a small contented noise leaving him at the sight.

Felix summoned the magic circle once again with questionable stability. Sylvain knew it was doomed.

“Your thumb placement’s off,” he said groggily. Felix turned to look at him, circle fizzling out.

“Not according to the texts. It’s something in my summoning. Hanneman said—“

“Yeah, and Hanneman has stubby hands like mine. You got long fingers. The field of range for foundational runes doesn’t change. You need to compensate for it by adjusting,” he summoned the basic dark magic circle, and for dramatics, he grabbed his thumb with his other hand to adjust it out, where Felix’s long digit would be, “your thumb,” and watched as the circle destabilized. He ceased the proto-spell and looked smugly at a narrow-eyed Felix. “Math doesn’t lie.” Felix spun up the circle again, carefully adjusting the thumb in, and look at that. It worked. Shocker.

“So you do use that worthless brain after all.” He concluded the circle and walked over to sit by him.

“Brains and beauty, ba-“ he faked the ‘baby’ into yawn. It was a line he used frequently and honestly didn’t feel right without the ‘baby’ at the end; anything for that smile, though. Felix placed a caressing hand on his cheek. The affectionate move was betrayed by his sneering face.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He glided a thumb along his lips, directing it into his mouth. Sylvain lovingly accepted it and watched Felix’s face soften. “But I appreciate the effort.” Sylvain licked up the length of it as Felix removed his thumb. He wiped it on his cheek, smiling as he did so. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” he lied, smiling.

“Sleep well?”

“Mmmhm,” Sylvain nodded his head, finally feel awake enough for other activities. His tongue itched for something to keep it busy again and Sylvain had a particular task in mind. Felix probably didn’t get off after he passed out and, well, that just ain’t fair. He leaned in to kiss him, and instead found his weight falling forward into nothing, as Felix had stood up unexpectedly.

“Good. I was going to wake you soon anyways. Get dressed.” He was already affixing his shirt hurriedly.

“But I wanted to suck you off,” he whined, sitting up and working his body to look appealing in every way possible. Doe eyes? Check. Flexed pecks? Double check. Pouty bottom lip? Hell yeah. Throw in a little bite of it too to really drive it home. Sylvain is horny. Come here, now.

The fingers buttoning his cuff slowed and amber eyes trained on him. “It’s only fair,” Sylvain whined harder. Felix sighed in the same way the Professor would at him, but stopped his dressing to walk over to him. A hand grabbed his jaw in a way he was becoming all too familiar with. Felixed lifted his chin, commanding his attention to be on him and nothing else. Sylvain gladly gazed upon his beauty, licking his lips.

“You will take my cock in your throat because I want you to, or because you want to. Not because you feel like something is owed.” He kissed him forcefully. Sylvain tried to lean into it, but Felix kept his face still. He pulled back, still clutching his jaw. “Get dressed. Your curfew is in an hour and you need dinner.” He let go to continue buttoning his cuff. Sylvain shifted his jaw back and forth, pouting.

“I really slept that long?” He said more to himself than Felix. He sat up, collecting his clothes. Felix was right, he’d need to eat before cloistering off. Ugh, what a disappointing use of his free day. Too much sleeping, not enough Felix, and not enough fucking.

* * *

The dining hall was loud and busy, the two were able to find a seat with some modicum of privacy thanks to the noise.

“How’s your back and shoulder?” Felix asked while waiting for a spoon full of hot soup to cool.

“Much better." His back felt supple and shoulder had regained some mobility. Although he was smart enough to know to rest it another day before trying to lift it above his head again. “Should let you do that more often,” he winked.

“Tch, you would,” he said rolling his eyes at his incessant flirting. His face turned sour after trying the soup and he pushed the bowl to the far end of his tray, grabbing the small dish of seasoned veggies instead. A corner of Sylvain’s mouth twitched in concern. Must be too sweet for his liking. Felix had a bad habit of skipping out on meals to train longer and was too picky an eater when he did eat.

“Yes, I would so flirt with you, Felix. In fact, I think you’ve helped open a door to a whole new category of people I can flirt with now. Thanks for that,” he said, adding another wink. Felix groaned loudly.

“If you’ll excuse me now, I’d rather eat on my own.” Felix motioned to stand up and Sylvain was only halfway sure he was faking it. The man hadn’t eaten anything yet, which didn’t sit well with him, and besides, Sylvain wanted more time with his boyfriend.

“No! Stay! Please--” he grabbed his plate of curry seasoned meat, “--try this. You’ll like it better.” Felix sat and Sylvain swapped out their dishes. He tentatively took a small taste, shrugged, and ate it without complaint. Was pretty much as good as it was going to get with Felix. “I was only half joking about the opening doors thing, hope that’s okay.” A glare shot towards him. “I just, you know, had some feelings I wasn’t really acknowledging towards some--” he looked side to side to ensure those close weren’t paying them mind, “…guys.” Felix’s face softened, and continued to consume Sylvain’s meal while listening. Sylvain felt quite melancholy, a sign for him to shut up usually, but he also felt eager to share with Felix who seemed content to listen for once. Especially if it kept him eating and not leaving. “I never would have accepted those feelings if not for you. And I mean _only_ you. Like hell I would have trusted any other guy with Fodlan’s finest ass,” Sylvain said, winking again.

“Your eye broken or something?” Felix chastised. Sylvain laughed.

Felix sniffed, slightly raising his eyebrows and said, “Tell me who.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m curious. Who else?”

“Oh! Um...” Sylvain raked his brain for the guys he’d previously thought he’d just been extremely jealous of and totally, definitely not wanting to get with at all. Definitely not. Hindsight, man. He sighed. “Claude. Definitely.” Felix made a throaty noise, as if that was obvious, but just nodded and smirked. Unsure how to interpret that, and thankful Felix was showing no sign of jealously, he continued emboldened. “Can’t deny Dimitri has a lot going for him.”

“Ugh,” he scowled in a way only a former lover would. _No way._

“Don’t tell me—”

“Fine. I won’t,” Felix snipped. Sylvain swears he can see the physical walls being built around the topic in real time. He’s always been touch and go when it comes to their friend, the Prince of Faerghus, but this added so. Many. Layers to the situation. A tactical retreat then, but one day he’ll win the war and know what happened between them.

“Okay, then how about you? What sexy studs on campus are catching your eye?”

“No.”

“I’m not familiar with him. That the tall, gloomy one in Black Eagles?” He teased.

“No. I’m not telling you,” Felix growled back.

“Aw, come on, can’t I be curious too?”

Felix crossed his arms, looking away from him. Sylvain could see just a dusting of color on his cheeks. There’s something he’s hiding. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.” But Felix continued to pout in his cute, angry sort of way. He finished up Felix’s soup while he waited for him to simmer.

“You,” he grunted quietly.

“I already knew that one, Fe. Come on, who else?”

“Nobody…Just you.” Felix flicked his eyes back up, immediately catching his gaze. _Well that just doesn’t make sense._ He knew Felix had been sleeping with other guys, he said so their first night. Is he missing something? Could he be lying to him? He had to be lying to him. But his heart couldn’t help but stand still from the comment. Something about the way he had said ‘just you’ made time stand still for a moment. He wanted to kiss him. Not hard or anything. Just a small kiss, to hold him close. A kiss to reassure he wasn’t lying. He settled for placing a foot on top of his under the table. Felix didn’t shift away.

The chapel bells tolled seven.

“Shit, clean up my tray for me would you?” Sylvain said hurriedly. He jumped out of his seat and was halfway down the hall when he thought to turn back to look at him. It was Felix so he didn’t expect him to be looking back or anything, but he kind of didn’t even say goodbye.

He was looking right at him.

His heart fluttered.

He walked into a wall instead of through the door.

And Felix smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Ingrid facepalms at Sylvain, thinking he was checking out the girl behind Felix.  
> -Lysithea and Annette may have been on cooking duty for that soup...  
> -Everyone at Garreg Mach low-key has a crush on Claude. It's just a fact. Claude sadly doesn't date. Too busy solving racism.  
> -Other men on Sylvain's list, but not worth mentioning: Ferdinand (too prissy about nobility), Ignatz (cute face, not enough muscle), Yuri (was definitely attractive before, but now would actively tap that. Don't tell Felix), Ashe (freckles! But doesn't laugh at his jokes), the Gatekeeper (does laugh at his jokes, but scolds him for coming back late)
> 
> As a heads up next chapter is going to delve into Sylvain's trauma a touch. I'll be adding tags and cw's once the chapter drops (maybe Sunday, most likely Monday). Don't worry! More sexy times will be had ;)
> 
> Hope ya'll can find something today that makes you smile =)


	9. First, a place to fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain's insecurities bubble over and he doesn't like what he sees. 
> 
> Felix provides Sylvain with a new task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per last chapter's warning Sylvain has a bad moment during this one. CW for anxiety, and panic attacks. It occurs towards the beginning after the end of training. There also some "grew up very religious and now am not" humor as another heads up.
> 
> I'm loving developing the softness between these two. The smut will return next chapter. 
> 
> As always thanks for the comments and kudos =)

He made it all the way to Tuesday morning before getting antsy again. The Blue Lions were in their sparring practice and Sylvain was getting his ass handed to him repeatedly by both Ingrid and Dimitri. He knew what the Professor was doing and he couldn’t figure out whether to thank them or curse them. They had assigned him and Felix to separate sparring circles, with Felix being as far away from him as possible. His focus was divided; blocking poorly against the two, while his eyes constantly flickered towards Felix, sweated and glistening—if only he’d take off his shirt— _SMACK—_ another hit to his ribs.

He thought maybe he’d focus better if Felix was closer to him. He’d end up working harder to show off to his boyfriend, but he knew better, and so did the Professor from the looks of it. If the two of them ended up sparring clothes were coming off. Sylvain would make sure of it. _SMACK._

“Ouch! Fuck, I yield!”

“Language, Sylvain!” Dimitri chided.

“You hit my shoulder! I told you it was injured beforehand! Sheesh!” He massaged the sore shoulder. It felt good enough to fight, but didn’t mean it wasn’t tender still. And the mission was still coming up.

“Ah, well,” he said awkwardly. “Then you have my sincerest apologies.” Sylvain sulked away from the sparring circle to take a break and ogle Felix doing what he does best. Instead, he saw Felix fiercely shooting daggers towards Dimitri and getting smacked himself in the head teasingly by Yuri. A quick turn of the head back to Yuri with what Sylvain could only imagine to be a look of contempt and their duel was back on. He chuckled at the interaction, watching Felix press into a defensive position, legs wide, pants tightening around his ass. Sylvain bit his lip.

He’d completely forgotten to talk to his boyfriend about his needs during their free day. Sylvain can’t go long without physical affection. Well, he can, he just greatly prefers to keep some thoughts at bay with physical contact. They needed to work out some sort of system. Afternoon cuddling? Secret alleyway kisses? Wait, no, that hadn’t worked out. And, shit, Felix never did elaborate on why he thought that had been his fault. Was he somehow more wanting than Sylvain was? Certainly seemed so, even if Sylvain refused to believe it.

Training wrapped up as usual, with some notes for each student from the Professor. Once again they told Sylvain he needed to work on his focus, but added to maybe train with his off hand to grant an edge in battle, noting his shoulder. It was a good idea. They also informed him they signed him up for the great knight assessment again, scheduled for Saturday afternoon and to expect another tutoring session. Great. More buckles to memorize.

A beautiful noise tickled his ears and he turned to see Felix laughing at something Yuri had said. He wasn’t just chuckling, either. It was full blown, belling laughing Felix. He was nearly on the verge of tears! Fuck! Sylvain hadn’t ever gotten him to do that. Not since…He pushed the thought out of his head.

He stared venomously at Yuri. The man was definitely attractive. Even Sylvain knew that, well before he’d come to terms with himself. Back then he’d just chalked it up to how feminine Yuri came off as, but now knew it was the deadly combination of femininity _and_ masculinity that made him so attractive. And he was making Felix laugh. And gloating about it too, so it seemed.

He recalled how Felix hadn’t been exactly forthright in sharing his other attractions. ‘Just you,’ had come out suspiciously slow. _He was probably just covering so he wouldn’t hurt my feelings._ Welp, too late. Feelings hurt.

Felix finally calmed down, and Yuri crossed his arms looking like a smug fucking asshole. Mouth twitching, Sylvain abruptly left the training grounds. He’d thought him and Felix would have gotten lunch together again, but something hit him and now he couldn’t stand the thought. Instead images of Felix laughing and smiling at Yuri plagued him. Yuri inviting Felix into bed. Yuri pleasuring Felix, making him moan. Whispers of Sylvain being too inadequate a lover flooded his mind. They had to be exes. Undoubtedly. But are they still exes? Sylvain doesn't act that friendly to any of his exes, unless…

He cursed. He was too…angry? But also sad. It was an usual feeling. He wanted to hit something but also cry at the same time—

Shit.

His heart sunk.

It was jealousy.

Which only brought his thoughts to one thing.

The wave of panic rode in with the realization, his vision gently tunneling.

He ducked into an alcove and calmed his shaking hands, realizing he was behaving, or rather thinking of behaving, just like Miklan had with him. And Miklan had made sure he felt it in every way that hurt and mattered. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to fall, and his hands were only shaking harder. He…he wouldn’t right? He wouldn’t, he’s not his brother. Any yet _…No, no, no, no, no…_ He closed his eyes, the demonic beast starting back, trying to focus on his breathing, but felt like he had no lungs, no heart, no nothing at all.

“Sylvain?” He twitched up to see Felix, same concerned look he had when he’d accidentally pinched his shoulder only this time it was not cute. It was accusatorial. Not thinking Sylvain stumbled forward, clutching Felix into a hug as if his life depended on it, breathing fast into his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, as if that could somehow drown out the demons. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He spoke softly, a gentle hand placed on the low part of his neck. “Hey, breath. Slower, come on, Sylvain.” He swallowed ugly, breathing in with difficultly, only taking quick sips of air, but was able to let it out smoothly. “Good. I’m here. I’m here, Sylvain. Just listen to my voice, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Fe. I’m sorry,” he blabbered. “I’m not—“ _like him. I promise. I’ll do better. Make you laugh more, make you—_

“Hey, just listen to me. None of that, okay? Just breathe and after I’ll find him and I’ll make him—“

“Oh, Sylvain!” Mercedes concerned voice popped in. “Is he okay?” Sylvain sniffed in surprise, making an ugly noise, her intrusion snapping him back to reality. The world had shrunk so small, he’d forgotten there was more than just Felix. He pushed himself off his boyfriend, wiping his face as discreetly as he could, instinct to hide this overwhelming him. He can collect on the debt later, like usual.

“Mercedes,” Sylvain said, voice smooth with practice, “Yeah, I’m--” he recalled their talks about honesty, “--I’m better now, thanks for your concern.” Felix stood stoically on guard.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Sometimes a good hug from a trusted friend can really go a long way,” she hummed. “Would the two of you like to accompany Annie and me to lunch? The Professor has invited us to sit with them today.”

“No, thanks,” Felix said devoid of the warmth he had prior.

“Oh, don’t keep the Professor waiting on account of us. Enjoy lunch, Mercedes!” He smiled falsely. She hummed concernedly, glancing at Felix, but smiled and strolled off.

He exhaled, leaning against the stone wall, letting his back slide down. He felt, fuzzy. Like he didn’t have any edges to his skin. He stared off into the cloudy sky, watching the clouds move with the wind.

“Been a while since that last happened,” Felix said. Sylvain stayed silent. The last time had been right after Miklan had—best not to think about it. “Talk to me, you’re always better after you talk.” He shook his head, feeling embarrassed now. “Sylvain,” he said thick with affection, grabbing his jaw, as he was oft to do, with a caressing touch, guiding his face down to meet his.

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it is, tell me anyway.” Sylvain huffed, but smiled slightly. Felix understood it, had helped him through a number of them before. He was right. He just hated how Felix was involved with it this time. He took a long breath and began.

“You were laughing at whatever Yuri said,” he mumbled. Felix looked mildly surprised, but listened. “And I got jealous, alright? Like, really jealous...” He looked down, “As in, dead-brother levels of jealous.” He exhaled slowly. “I got scared. I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re nothing like him.”

“I told you it was stupid,” he muttered. Felix moved his hand up to his cheek, caressing him proper before removing it in sudden recognition of where they were: Outdoor. Midday. On Church grounds.

“Would it help if I told you what Yuri and I were talking about?”

“Not really.” The less he knew, the less his demons knew, and the less chances they had at slinging it back at him. Felix ducked his head to meet his eyes in an attempt to interrupt his gaze with the floor.

“You sure? I think you’d like it.” The beginnings of a smile started curling his lip and sourness spread inside Sylvain stomach all over again. Fuck that asshole.

“Enough. Felix,” he said with more venom than he'd wanted. He swallowed and cursed at himself. He was being too harsh. “I’m sorry. Just not now, okay? Later? After I’ve cooled off a bit?” Felix hummed in acknowledgement. He stepped around to lean against the wall right beside Sylvain and remained quiet. A presence, but not obtrusive. He returned his gaze to the sky, breathing out slowly to imagine his breath pushing the clouds across the sky. His pinky finger gravitated for Felix against the wall, making contact with his hand. Felix didn’t react save for a gentle movement against him.

Ten minutes later they arrived in the dining hall for lunch. Sylvain pretending nothing had happened at all and Felix lingering alongside him, knowing better.

* * *

Felix kept an eye on him for the rest of the day, much to his annoyance. He didn’t need to be babied after his events and hated feeling like Felix was expecting him to drop into another one any second.

Still. He followed Felix to his kitchen duty after dinner and helped with the dishes, throwing out exaggerated stories and crude jokes to Ashe, seeing how deep a crimson he could make him blush and noting the amusement in Felix’s eyes each time Ashe’s voice got an octave higher. “Realllly?” Yes, _totally_ dashed across rooftops avoiding getting caught by an unsuspecting robber interrupting him and a lover. Eventually Felix chimed in, elaborating the story even more, turning it into a game of how much shit can we get Ashe to believe before he wizens up.

Turns out Sylvain’s fake lover’s quarrels were easy mode for Ashe. Felix’s “long lost” knight tales, however…Embarrassed at how long it took him, Ashe eventually left with a pout, citing something about there being three students when the task called for two. Felix and Sylvain laughed with each other.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Kid’s too honest. Someone needed to break him,” Sylvain remarked.

“Agreed.” He was still chuckling, but when he turned to Sylvain, it widened into a smile. His heart skipped and they held the gaze for what seemed like forever. Sylvain wouldn’t mind moving in here permanently.

“No offense, but--” Sylvain motioned for him to come over, quickly checking him out, and giving a slightly press of his lips. Boy needed to be kissed. Felix shook his head.

“You remember what happened last time.”

“Come on, I got curfew in like ten minutes. Leave me with something.”

“No.”

“Why?” He whined. After not receiving a response, “This got something to do with you thinking before was your fault?”

He scoffed, “It was my fault.”

“How?” It was either Sylvain’s fault for not listening to Felix or equally both their faults. Felix rolled his eyes, but not in his usual manner. More like…asking the Goddess for help. With all the begging he’s made Sylvain do for Her he’d think She’d answer. Felix walked to him at the washing basin and grabbed a dish to clean beside him.

Voice lowered, “I can’t resist you. Never could. But especially now that I’ve seen you—“ he stopped to purse his lips, face flushing. Sylvain got the message.

“You didn’t think you’d ever get me like that, huh?” Sylvain couldn’t stop the flirting tone to his voice, nor did he want to.

“No.” Felix was breathing heavier, refusing to look at him.

“You know,” he said coyly, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my own needs. There’s no way I can last til the end of the week without--” Sylvain ducked his nose into the crook of his exposed neck, “ _you know;_ ” leaving a breathy smile before returning to the last few dishes. Felix shuddered. He still wasn’t looking at him. “Maybe if we spread it out more? Would help both of us. I know some spots, but of course we could always head back to your room.” He leaned back to check the time through the open door. Five minutes. “And I’m not talking about the works. Just a little here, little there.” He finished the last dish and wiped his hands.

“Let me walk you back.”

“Ah, such a noble knight of lore, my boyfriend.” Felix flicked him in the head.

 _Ow._ He smiled. Worth it.

* * *

They had walked back in silence. The bells were already ringing, and they were standing outside his room, not a soul in sight. He knew the Professor was going to get lax at some point.

“So you know a spot?” Felix said casually. His heart lifted. He had been listening!

“A number. Secluded. No one would find us. Why? You interested?” He bit his lip, smiling. Felix’s eyes shifted away from him and he followed. The Professor was walking over from the gardens carrying a large stack of books. _Ugh_. More lessons on armor.

“Surprise me before Friday.” He turned to walk towards the classrooms for his seminar.

“Whoa! Hey, no smile? Come on,” he whined. Felix always left him with a smile for the night. He turned, and Felix’s eyes glinted at him. He lifted his chin with an air of confidence, puffing his chest slightly, signaling Sylvain to do all but listen and follow.

“Don’t be disappointing me with my surprise then,” he said commandingly, and left, leaving Sylvain smiling like a dork.

The Professor arrived.

“Shall we get started? We still need to cover and review pegasus barding.”

Sylvain tried his best to hide his slight erection as he opened the door.

* * *

The next day Felix was carrying around a rag tucked into his back pocket. Sylvain tried to pretend he didn’t know what it was for.

He couldn’t surprise him the very next day. No, no, no, that is far too obvious. Today was the day for scouting and planning. Mostly scouting. Because he _may_ have over-exaggerated a tad. It wasn’t a lie! He definitely did have sex that one time early in the year with a girl in one of the forgotten conservatory storerooms. Only problem was it wasn’t forgotten anymore. Dedue had cleared it out the very next week to make room for a new project the Professor was helming.

And that was it. Everything else he’d done in inns and bedrooms in town or his own room.

But Felix had _requested_ this from him. So he was going to make do. There was plenty of places he’d imagine having sex in, but none that would be great with his new habit of moaning his boyfriend’s name loudly and repeatedly. The search around campus grounds granted two possibilities in the form of broom closets. Surely that’d be disappointing. So as much as he hated it, he walked over the bridge to the Cathedral. Anything for…love?

He’d been thinking it more and more recently. Was he in love? He loved the things Felix did to him, certainly. But he also loved looking at him. Not lustfully—although yes, lustfully—but he liked looking at him for the sense of serenity he provided. The proximity of him calmed his nerves. And he loved joking with him! Even before he wanted him physically. No one could fling gallows humor like Felix, and Sylvain thought it a damn shame most didn’t appreciate, or rather recognize, his humor.

And Felix was just there for him. And he was there for him as well. Through Miklan, through Glenn, and now through their time here at the Officers’ Academy. He’d do anything for his smile, but he’d also do anything _for him._ Flames, they’d already promised each other to die together might as well promise their lives as well—

Sylvain stopped himself. He was getting ahead of things. First, a place to fuck.

The Cathedral had _way_ more opportunities. A simple squeeze past a broken door and there was a slew of options. Felix wasn’t that devout, right? Well, if he was, at least one of them would be praying. Sylvain laughed to himself as he opened up yet another abandoned room. They were all the same, grey stonework, dark, broken furniture, cobwebs. He closed the door, and stepped into the center of the room. Time for the real test.

He shouted. Yelped. Cried for help. Begged for the Goddess’s mercy.

And then waited and counted.

1….2……15…16……62…63…

And no one came. Perfect. Not exactly the epitome of romance, this room, but a good backup. He kept searching.

He drew the line at actually entering the Cathedral to look. He did grow up in Faerghus after all. But he did head down the stairs, leading to a walkway that went under the bridge and along the cliffside. It was pretty. Scenic. He found an alcove towards the backside that seemed closed off enough…

He shouted for help. Screamed. Yelped.

And waited and counted.

He got to thrity-six when a nun appeared from the opposite side he’d come from.

“I heard someone scream? Are you hurt?”

“Ah, no, Sister, just had quite a scare with the edge.” He laughed nervously to sell it. She tsk’d him and escorted him back up to the Cathedral. He even stopped to say a prayer for guidance.

He walked past the Goddess Tower, wishing they could get up there to do it, but the ball had already past and those doors were locked. A little further pass that was when Sylvain remembered the field him and Ingrid were weeding. There had been a small sentry tower that looked out of sorts. Maybe the Goddess answered his prayer? Nah, more likely She’s sick of hearing him plead her name.

He jogged over and sure enough the tower was good an abandoned. But the best part was the collapsed roof and sides. It let in just enough sunlight, but provided enough cover. If he got Felix over at the right time of day it could be stunning. The tower was out in the middle of a field so he felt sure no one would hear them, but just to be sure he repeated his process.

No one came.

Scouting complete.

All’s left was to plan a romantic rendezvous.

* * *

By the end of the day (or rather seven'o'clock. Thanks, Professor) he hadn’t seen Felix at all shy for a few moments in passing. It didn’t bother him. He was too giddy with what would happen tomorrow and tying all his ideas together. But he knew it was undeniably bothering Felix because he’d been waiting for him by his dorm room right as Sylvain strolled to it at his custom curfew. Arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he’d been there for a time, Felix pushed off the wall and approached to talk.

The bells were already ringing so he felt he had a valid excuse, but he wanted to teased him all the same.

He didn’t address his boyfriend apart from a wink and a wave before entering and closing the door.

He knew it would drive him nuts. He could picture him stomping away right this instance, angrily pouting and likely cursing his name. Good. He wanted him like that. All the more to make him wildly crave him come tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I'm not telling you what Yuri said to Felix (cause it'll likely come up) [strikethrough! False! Future Windy here to say there will be a Prequel feat. Felix and Yuri!] but know Sylvain ogling Felix during training was, to Yuri, more obvious than the sun rising and Yuri is, well, very not straight. Let ya'll figure that one out.  
> -Anyone else think about Sylvain's paralogue lines "If [Miklan] had the Crest and I didn't... Would I be the one my father thought was worth forgetting? Or would my fate have been wholly unlike his?" Cause I do. A lot.  
> -Ashe left to go ask Ingrid if the stories Felix was spouting were true or not (Half of them are because Felix was totally _into that shit_ in the before times, like a weeb, and we all know it)  
> -The Professor was walking purposely slowly (maybe even Ministry of Silly Walks worthy) seeing Felix and Sylvain outside their door, praying to Sothis Felix would walk away before they got there.  
> -You betcha butts Sylvain counted to 69  
> -nice  
> -Felix did not instantly storm off pouting angrily when Sylvain closed the door on him. Rather he stood mouth agape for a moment, thinking something along the lines of "the audacity of this bitch," and _then_ stormed off angrily pouting.
> 
> Next chapter will be back to smutlandia. 
> 
> If you're loving these sweet soft boyfriends smiling at each other consider letting me know and leaving a kudo. I need snacks to munch on.
> 
> Treat yourself to something nice today =)


	10. The Grand Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain is a lover at heart and he has a grand plan to romance the shit out of his boyfriend.
> 
> First he needed to make sure Felix was well annoyed and pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time finding a good break point without horridly cucking you amazing readers and couldn't so yay! XL chapter!
> 
> I've proofed it a few times, but I did write this between migraine surges this week (I'm okay). Do let me know if there's any glaring errors/confusion and I'll fix them. 
> 
> Thanks for the support and love for these stupid boys. I've got an ending in sight, but I'm terrible at estimating my writing so ya'll will just have to enjoy the ride =)

He couldn’t sleep. After enough tossing and turning he decided to try studying again to maybe take his mind off Felix, but more so just to see if it would make him dead tired. It made him bored, but not tired. Dumb buckles. He switched to try reading Bernadetta’s story for a fifth time, but he was so familiar with the plot by now, his racing brain filled it all in before his eyes could read it.

He could hear the morning birds chirping and saw just an inkling of sun rays through his doorframe and figured it was close enough to begin The Grand Plan. He only hoped Felix found it as romantic as he thought it to be.

To begin, a warm up.

Sylvain undressed from the waist down and sat on his heels, grabbing a mostly used bottle of oil from the nightstand. He’d gotten more practiced with this new way of touching himself (like what else would he do after a seven'o'clock curfew. Really, Professor. It was almost like they were begging him to be doing this. Heh. Now there’s a thought- _no, wait, dumbass_. He was preparing himself _for Felix_. Save the hots for the Professor for later). Facing the wall, he oiled up one hand, preferring the slickness to his precum or spit, and began stroking himself slowly.

It was barely morning. No need to rush things, right? Felix would work him until he begged, why couldn’t he do the same for himself? Oh, right, because he’s an impatient manslut. His cock flushed in his hand from the thought. He closed his eyes, tossing his head back, breathing quickening, throwing more sexual insults at himself. Whore. Filthy whore. No, _disgusting_ filthy whore. Mm, yeah. Felix would definitely call him that. _Depraved slut._ _Insatiable idiot._ His erection grew harder in his hand as he croaked out a low moan.

He imagined the words in his head as Felix’s voice, but without the usual bark it carried. His voice was soft, and adoring. Sylvain opened his mouth, body anticipating something to be placed there. When nothing did, he licked the air in desperation, whining gently.

 _You want me, don’t you,_ the Felix in his mind whispered. Sylvain nodded, purring from his own touch. He toyed with his own nipple, upset at the lack of multiple hands. He needed two on his tits, one of his cock, his hole, cheeks, shoulders, thighs, shit he just needed to be touched everywhere. An image of him falling backwards into a sea of needy hands flashed through his brain. All with long, and slender fingers, matching Felix’s touch.

He moaned longingly, collapsing forward, forehead resting against the wall, pumping faster, bouncing on his heels as he twisted his nipple harder. Sylvain imagined Felix stroking himself over his body while he floated along the sea of his hands. _How bad do you want me?_ He opened his mouth instinctually once more, but this time jammed three of his fingers in, giving his tongue something to work on; furiously sucking, licking, prodding, grunting against the what he could only picture as Felix’s hard cock. _Do your worst._

He nearly came at the memory. He backed off immediately, gasping from the emptiness in his mouth, squeezing tight on his throbbing head. He calmed his breath. Grabbed the oil. Slicked up his fingers. And leaned forward, positioning his heels under his ass to spread himself open.

It never felt as good as when Felix did it. He’s pretty sure it’s the angle, but part of him believes Felix provided a sense of thrill to the encounter that he just couldn’t provide himself. There was this slight sense of being taking advantage of—of wanting to be taken advantage of. Sylvain would debauch himself in anyway Felix desired him to do so, but right now (and with any luck, later today) he had a specific thing in mind.

He sat up slightly and lined up the second digit, slowly sitting back down on what his mind only felt as Felix’s cock. Pleasure spread up through him like embers rising from fire, tingling his edges, leaving him with breathy sighs. Slowly he scissored himself, hand still loose on his cock. “Fe,” he moaned, cheek sliding against the wall as his hips uncontrollably rocked. He could probably climax just like this, but Sylvain had plans. The Grand Plan.

Picturing the scene he was hoping for later today, he took his hand off his throbbing cock and diligently pressed a third in and rode on his own hand for a time. A quick addition of more oil, and he prepared himself for the final digit. He moved slow, even Felix hadn’t teased him with more than three, but he wanted to be prepared for anything. He breathed deep, relaxing into the extra stretch before clutching his cock once more.

“Felix,” he whispered. Amber eyes, larger than life, poured over his soul in his mind’s eye. _Yes, my darling?_ The words traveled faintly on a breath, “I love you.” _Oh, Sylvain. I love you as well. Come for me._ He obeyed.

Sylvain cleaned up the mess and flopped down into the bed, laughing at himself. Like Felix would say those words to him. Well, he hoped, but the delivery would never be like that. He imagined cute, reluctant Felix muttering it angrily to him, probably with more swears than Seiros had Saints. He laughed more, feeling like he had no right to feel this happy, until he realized he wasn’t really laughing. He was crying.

Yup.

He’s right fucked.

* * *

Being up so early managed to be a blessing in disguise. He managed to get the rest of his preparations completed without anyone seeing him running around. He had prepared an ample amount of excuses in case someone had questioned him, but was thankful he hadn’t need them, 'specially since he was _technically_ stealing.

It took him longer than expected, forcing him to run near sprinting speeds towards the training grounds, crashing in just as the Professor had begun instruction. He threw a wink in Mercedes’s direction, pointedly ignoring his boyfriend. He delighted in wondering what Felix could be thinking right now—his boyfriend running in late for training, flushed and bothered, winking at someone other than him. He must be _pissed_.

Ensuring he was in view of him, he cracked his neck and undid a few more buttons on his shirt than usual, billowing the fabric to cool himself off. With the Professor’s permission he spent the whole training time with a dummy and a lance in his off hand, and away from Felix.

The, as discussed the day before, he took lunch with Annette outside, forming a double study session. Her, helping him with the finer points of armor, and he, helping her with the trickier math on some reason spells. Peripherally he spotted Felix searching for him, peeking out from a doorway before turning to go back inside once he saw him absorbed in a pile of books and notes with Annette. He couldn’t hear the ‘hrmph’ from him from this distance, but he was absolutely sure it was full of sexual frustration.

The line was set. Now he just had to take the bait.

He thanked Annette, and made his way into the slowly emptying dining hall. Felix had assigned kitchen duty for the whole week and would be heading to there soon to clean up and prepare for dinner. Sylvain propped his feet up on a bench and grabbed the next installment of Bernadetta’s story out from his bag. She’d been so amazing on making sure to pen a copy for him; he’d picked it up last night during his preparations, unsure how long this part would take.

He’d _almost_ been completely engrossed in the story when Felix’s presence alerted him.

“What the fuck, Sylvain?”

Hook. Line. And sinker.

“And do tell, what is it that I did this time?”

“Why the _hell_ is Mercedes insisting on covering my kitchen duty? And saying you asked on my behalf?” Oh, yes, he was fuming. Stupid, angry, cuter than has any right to be, Felix. Sylvain couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if his life depended on it.

“Oh, well, _you know,_ because of your allergy.”

“My _what.”_

“Did you not see the menu, man? Pheasant roast with that one berry sauce you hate is tonight.”

“And _how_ is that related?”

“Aw, don’t worry. I know you’re, like, super embarrassed about it. I made Mercedes promise to keep your,” he leaned in to whisper, “deadly strawberry allergy a secret.” Felix blinked at him, trying to process what he’d said. He was pretty sure Felix was trying to mentally weigh just how little brain matter Sylvain had. “Mercedes was more than happy to switch with you so you could avoid it.”

She’d also put Sylvain through the wringer last night, immediately catching his lies. Only after he’d told her they were dating and he wanted to do something nice for him had she happily agreed to lie on his behalf. The talk had taken up most of his evening, forcing the rest of his preparations to move to the morning. “Hey, while you’re here I need to take some tools over to that stupid field Ingrid and I are clearing out. Dedue recommended using some sort of mat to save my back this time along with some other things to make it easier. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say so many words before in my life when I asked if he had any gardening tips.” It was true, he had needed to make an excuse so he could see everyone in time. “Can you help me carry it over? Would save me a trip. And I’d owe you one.” It was such a wink-worthy line, but he resisted.

He waited for his response, hoping he hadn’t spoken too quickly. Felix was still blinking at him, expression resembling something close to confusion. Maybe this is what angry-confused looked like. Sylvain was starting to worry he hadn’t been obvious enough. He wanted to remain coy, to keep it somewhat a surprise, but Felix’s processing was giving him pause. Right as he was able to clarify, ‘The Fucking Place, Felix. Follow me,’ Felix let out a slow “Sure.”

He talked his boyfriend’s ear off on the long walk from the greenhouse to the field behind the Cathedral. Felix barely listened, responding only in grunts, and looked alerted at every corner they turned. Sylvain couldn’t help but purposely lead them down different alleyways after noticing, laughing at how cute and suspecting Felix was. It almost made him want to hold off for another day. Almost. But instead he took comfort in knowing Felix’s heart was likely pumping out of his chest and the poor guy looked almost deflated when he indeed lead him to the field to drop off the tools.

“I just gotta drop this box over by that tower, and we’ll head back,” he said, grabbing the box hiding the real tools needed from Felix’s hand. He ducked behind the crumbling tower so Felix couldn’t see him, taking off his jacket to leave outside as a hint and grabbed the oil from the box. Something about making Felix be the one to carry the oil over unknowingly had been extremely hot. Inside, he took off the rest of his shirt and cummerbund, and spread himself out on the blanket he’d prepared. He wiggled with excitement. A treat waiting for Felix to find. And what a treat he was. 

“Hey idiot where’d you go?” Felix called out distantly. Sylvain already felt a warmth churning below. “You said we’d head back together,” he said nearing, a hint of disappointment in his voice. _Ohoho, did you think the fucking would happen on the way back, babe? Think again._ “Sylva—“ he cut off. Must have spotted the jacket. Bramble snapped as he looked for the entry and Sylvain sat up, second guessing his plan and instantly forming a better one. He bolted silently over to the only entry point, hiding himself against the wall, waiting. Lurking. To pounce upon his prey. (Only to be eaten himself of course, but who’s really caring about semantics when it comes to getting laid. Let’s be real).

Felix entered the small, circular crumbled room. A blanket along with two pillows lay on the ground. Swept piles of debris sat in one area, and unlit candles stuck to stonework littered the whole room. From the outside the tower was missing a chunk of wall, but inside had been covered up with yet another blanket, canopying the partially fallen roof and wall. It was quite dark and Sylvain knew Felix’s eyes would need a moment to adjust.

He grabbed him from behind, holding his waist, pulling him against his body with one arm and the other covering his eyes. “Hey, Felix,” he said seductively, kissing his neck. “You found me.”

“Idiot, this is Church grounds.” He made no other protest. Sylvain kissed the same spot harder, sucking and biting, fulling intending on leaving a mark high on his collared neck. Felix pulled away as soon as he sensed his intentions.

“Hey!” Sylvain let go of him, and he turned around to confront him, mouth already forming words of contention when he saw he was shirtless. The words never came, instead lustful realization dawned upon his face.

Sylvain giggled. “Like what you see?” He bit his lip, checking him out, finally feeling like the one in control of their intimacy. “How bout I make it so you can see your favorite plaything better?” He ignited the candles with the use of his one known fire spell, thanking Annette in the back of his mind for the refresher earlier.

“So you admit to being my plaything?” Sylvain kneeled on the blanket, Felix joined him.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be-” and before Felix could say anything, “-as long as it involves sex.”

Felix laughed, rolling his eyes. “You insatiable little prick.”

“Little?” Sylvain scoffed, walking into the trap willingly. “I beg to differ.”

“You need me to check?” Sylvain would have said yes, but Felix had already waded close enough to him to say the line against his ear, soft kisses peppering his neck, his slender fingers sliding through his chest hair. The combined actions ceased the speech functions in his brain. He wanted to savor this tenderness from Felix forever. Figure out how to bottled it up and release it anytime he felt lonely or depressed.

Felix’s fingers traced around his nipples, closing around slowing until he was pinching each, sending Sylvain’s head back with a short wail of sudden pleasure. “Well?” Felix pestered.

“Yes,” he moaned. Felix twisted his nipples.

“Yes, what?”

“Please! Please, Felix. I want you to—“ he sucked in sharply. Felix’s fingers lightly traced the outline of his cock through his breeches. Tantalizingly tickling him. A promise of pleasure, yet no delivery. “Please,” he whined.

Felix pulled back, face stone cold. Sylvain’s ears pulsed, recognizing the stoic face. Commanding.

His plaything indeed.

“Take those off,” he said compellingly. Sylvain scrambled to his feet, unlacing himself and scooting everything down when he realized he’d almost forgotten the big reveal. The one that had almost made him late for training. He kept the drawers in place, moving over the the blanket covering the hole in the wall. He prayed he got his timing right. “I said, take those off,” Felix hissed at his disobedience. 

“Yeah, hang on. I just thought-” he reached up to dislodged the rock holding one side of the canopied blanket in place, “-you’d appreciate a full-” delicately moving backwards to avoid tangling anything, “-dazzling display.”

He removed the blanket. The low sun emitted into the small chamber reflecting off more than fifty pieces of colored glass dangling from twine. The whole room sparkled in twirling light, impressing even Sylvain, filling him with pride this had worked just as he’d imagined. He slipped his drawers off and looked to Felix for his reaction.

It was better than he could have imagined. His face was soft, mouth slightly ajar, eyes tracking the different lights bouncing around the room. Blues, reds, and purples danced across his wondrous face. Sylvain soaked the visage in, committing it to memory; his heart pulsing with love.

“You did this?” His voice was weak. Maybe with disbelief? Sylvain was unsure.

“You said not to disappoint. Well?” He held his arms up in appraisal. When Felix didn’t answer, still distracted by the display, Sylvain kept talking, trying to fill the air. “The, um, glass was here when I found the place. I think there was a, uh, window where the hole is. I had to clean up quite a bit, did several trips to get everything here. And I _might_ have stolen some paints from Ignatz to color—“

“You _painted_ them?” He stood up to investigate the dangling glass better, stepping more into the light and closer to Sylvain.

Oh. Oh, what a sight. Felix admiring his work with such—there really wasn’t any other word—with such love. He watched as he poked one, sending it twirling and swinging at high speed; a red light dancing faster than the others around them. “Ridiculous,” he muttered, watching it swirled around them, pulling them closer without moving any physical distance. Sylvain mirrored him, tapping a blue one, light dancing in tandem with the red around their bodies.

A lump in his throat formed, he really couldn’t help it. Tears formed in his eyes. A blink and they started to fall. Felix loved it. Screw the sex. This was everything he wanted. And would be everything he ever desired again. Felix _loved_ it.

“Sylvain, this is—“ he turned to him, “Sylvain?” He grabbed his cheeks, brushing off the tears, then pulled him in tight. Sylvain’s naked body against his fully clothed, holding him warmly. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t think you’d like it that much,” he said sniffling. Felix pulled him back to look at him. He kissed him with great fondness. Sylvain didn’t want to let him go, pulling him in for a longer kiss.

“Idiot,” Felix whispered. “I’d thought you’d just-” he touched their foreheads together, “-pull me into some abandoned classroom or something.”

“Is it too much?” Fuck, he probably shouldn’t have put so much effort into this. He’d had clingy girlfriends before. They were the absolute fucking worst. Showering him with what they thought was love, trying to woo him into a serious (i.e. marriage) relationship. He would spend one great night with them and made sure to vanish the next or be caught with another girl. Would Felix do the same after this?

But Felix shook his head, “No, Sylvain this is—“

“Oh good, cause I also brought food and some cheap wine,” he rambled quickly. It was supposed to be an after-surprise, but what the hell. Felix laughed, smiling right at him. He held his face, wiping more tears with his thumbs.

“Sylvain, I—“ He was blushing, and looking towards the lights. Or maybe he was just looking up to not look at him, or to say a silent prayer. Who knows. But he took a step away from him. “Hrmph.”

Sylvain knew that ‘hrmph’ better than any other. It was the one Felix started using first, after Glenn had died and he’d gone and bottled every strong emotion up in favor of anger. The breathy, frustrated noise said, “I appreciate this more than you know and if I say anymore I will start crying. And I will punch you if I do.” Well, the last part wasn’t really in there, but Sylvain knew it from personal experience. Regardless, it felt as good as an ‘I love you’ as he was going to get.

“You just going to stare at me then?” Sylvain changed the subject to alleviate him, “Or are you going to play with me?” He smiled cheekily. In a flash his hungry amber wolf-eyes set upon him. He lifted his chin, somehow appearing taller than him not in height, but in the way a person’s aura could just fill a space. He reached his hands to his vest, aggressively undoing the buttons to undress himself. Sylvain approached to assist, but a hand shot forward blocking him.

“Such effort should be rewarded, no?” Oho? Reward? He watched Felix pull and tug his shirt off, colors dancing with mesmerizing patterns across his pale chest. “Kneel.” He did so, tonguealready searching inside his mouth. Felix unlatched his buckle, and Sylvain coursed over eager to assist once more.

The bottom of a boot collided with his shoulder (thankfully—perhaps thoughtfully?—on his good one) and pressed into him. “Sit,” Felix hissed, pushing him down onto his heels. The shoe remained. He grabbed his cheek with a hand, caressing. “So pretty,” Felix said mesmerized, dragging a thumbnail across his chin, sending a shiver down Sylvain's spine, and causing his mouth to open with a small gasp.

Two fingers were quickly forced in. His tongue latched around them quickly, sucking with a fervor only a man with no shame could. Felix chuckled at his efforts. “So eager to please. That’s what you want, right? You want to please me?” Sylvain’s eyes went wide, nodding as he continued to suck on Felix’s fingers.

“H’eeshe, Eelish,” Sylvain said, his begging distorted by the intrusion. Felix flipped his wrist and in one seamless movement pinned his tongue down, jaw forced open.

“Speak up,” he spat. Sylvain whined unable to form words, but Felix didn’t react. He whined louder, pinching his eyebrows together trying to mentally push his thoughts into Felix’s head. Still, Felix waited. The pressure on his tongue and jaw increased marginally, his boyfriend licking his lips. “Still can’t hear you,” he taunted. Sylvain wailed as loud as he could manage, panting between breaths, saliva dripping out of his open mouth, finishing off with a high pitched whine.

Felix smiled. The fingers released, flicking his bottom lip as they left. Felix cleaned up his chin from the excess saliva and smeared it on Sylvain's chest, leaving his fingers to linger playfully around his hair and nipple. The boot lifted from his shoulder, imprints from the sole leaving behind red marks, and he stepped back to fully take off his breeches.

Sylvain watched with anticipation. The rag he’d been carrying around in his back pocketed was pulled, along with a small vial of oil (toss aside with no fan-fair—Sylvain had already procured more than enough). He grabbed Sylvain's arm and tied the rag like a handkerchief around his wrist. “You loose this, you’re dead,” Felix instructed. Sylvain nodded and Felix smiled with anticipation.

“Felix, I want you so bad,” he whined his boyfriend’s favorite phrase, “I’ve been dying for another chance to suck you off, you have no idea. Please, let me.” He couldn’t take it anymore, he scooted closer to Felix, mouth open and ready. A hand on his head stopped him before he could make contact, holding him at a distance. He grunted a whine. Least the view was great. He could see Felix’s excitement, dripping precum, teasing him enough to crane his chin out as far as he could to try and get a taste. The hand on his head stayed firm, gripping into his hair.

Wait a second. He had hands didn’t he? He reached forward grabbing him by his bony hips, using his might to pull him forward, but Felix shifted in his weight, losing him the advantage. _Fucking swordsmen, always with their stances and Goddess-damned fancy footwork._

“Please, Felix! Come on, let me be a good boyfriend! I just want—“ he tongued out futility, “-I want to pleasure you.” Felix continued to hold him at an arms distance from his cock. He couldn’t look up from the position, but he heard a distinctive laugh. He begged more, knowing Felix loved it when he did so. Using every colorful word and analogy he could muster for sucking dick, amusing himself at how he once preferred to be at the receiving end of such words.

“Patience,” Felix said after a time. Sylvain sighed, quieting. “Sit.” The fingers pulling his hair remained taunt and followed as he sat again on his heels. “Comfortable?” He nodded, eyes on his prize. “Hrmph.”

‘Hrmph?’ _Excuse me?_ That broke whatever enchantment had taken him.

“Worried about Fodlan’s finest ass, sweet boyfriend of mine?” He batted his eyelashes.

“Tch,” was his only response. No eye roll though…curious. Instead Felix slowly stroked himself in front of Sylvain, careful eyes studying him. He crept towards him, Sylvain flickering his eyes between the hand stroking and his intense eyes. He opened his mouth slowly, tongue prepared to lick his length. His swollen tip fractions of a inch away from his reach.

Felix sat down in his lap instead. He must have made some face because Felix laughed haughtily in his ear. Sylvain’s heart fluttered despite the soiled expectation. “Aw, so disappointed?” He whispered on his lips, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and slow. Felix laughing and kissing him made for a fair consolation prize he guessed, and he leaned into the kiss. Hands caressed his face, while Sylvain felt up his ass.

He couldn’t believe he once thought kissing Felix was boring. Every move he did was a prelude for more to come. He just hadn’t known to listen. An orchestral overture was playing on his lips, expressing a whole act of his desires yet to be performed. A tongue slipped into his mouth and Sylvain resisted the urge to suck on it, enjoying the simple harmonies between their mouths. He dared to peek open his eyes to take in the sight of Felix’s nearness, his skin glowing in the sun, colors dancing upon his skin in perfect tempo. He chose then to close his mouth around Felix’s tongue and suck, pulling a moan from him; singing what he hoped to become main melody of their joining.

He swears they’ve entered into another plane of existence.

Felix nudged him back, settling closer towards his hips, until he had to break his hands away from his ass to catch himself. They both gasped when their cocks grazed one another. Sylvain instantly wanted it again, adjusting his hips to make it happen, Felix shuddering into his mouth when it did. He needed more. More pressure. More grazing. More grinding. And Felix was hardly doing any work at all. Which was fine by Sylvain. Was about time he could show him what he could do.

He leaned onto one forearm to take his ass, letting his fingers drape over near his hole and rocked him into his hips. That earned him a slight sigh. Okay. He lifted his hips into Felix instead. A bit of a workout with nearly all of Felix’s weight on him now, but hey, he didn’t get this fine ass by sitting around. Felix huff in a manner that was almost like a moan? He tried his tongue trick again. Nothing. _Saints, Felix._

Sensing his frustration, Felix chuckled, taking the hand on his back and guiding it lower so that one of his fingers was now pressing against his hole. “Didn’t take you for shy, Sylvain.” He wasn’t. He just wasn’t sure Felix would like that as well. And now he knew. He moved to rock them together again with his hand, finger pressing ever so slightly in. Felix gasped, “Ah-h, yes!”

“Mmph, yes, Felix,” he moaned back cyclically. He bit into his neck, thrusting him harder, until Felix mostly took over. The sensation of their dicks clipping each other sent shivers through him each time and he found himself wishing they’d just stay lined up long enough.

Felix pressed and leaned into him more, moaning and purring along. It was too much for Sylvain and he definitely would have spent himself by now, but his focus was divided. The positioning was not ideal, no matter how well sculpted his body was. The earlier training with his off hand proved fatal. The shoulder, with all the pressure leaning on it, was soon to give out from fatigue. He loathed to stop Felix, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t talk to him again afterwards if he admitted to injuring himself just trying to get him off. Of course he’s fully committed to the cause. It’s never stopped him before. But this is Felix. His _boyfriend._ He’d appreciate him speaking to him again and would love the opportunity to experience this more than once.

He reluctantly released his grip from his ass and pushed Felix up, looking at him as he detached from his face. “Gorgeous,” he mumbled unknowingly at his boyfriends flushed and wanting face.

“Comfortable?” Felix sneered sarcastically, undeterred by the thick desire clear on his face.

“To be fair, I thought I’d be sucking you off,” Sylvain said, repositioning them into a more traditional set up, Felix still mounting him.

“Patience,” Felix hummed with a smile. “Grab the oil, and sit up still.” The want of oil excited him, biting his lip, but the sitting up confused him. How would Felix fuck him still sitting in his lap? He obeyed nonetheless and returned to a caring smile from Felix. Sylvain busied himself with kissing him and Felix took the oil, and held Sylvain's hands, disposing some oil onto one and covering his fingers on the other. He pulled back from the kissing to look at Sylvain. Sylvain blinked at him, still processing. He wanted to suck his dick. And then he couldn’t. He wanted Felix to fuck him, and now…he’d covered _his_ hands in oil?

Perhaps that symphony hadn’t been loud enough on his lips.

Or Perhaps he’d gotten just that used letting Felix call the shots.

But then Felix, beautiful, stunning, stupid sword boy— _his sword boy—_ Felix, with cheeks splashed with crimson and a voice no louder than the calm wind blowing outside the sentry tower surround by a field said, “Please.”

His heart ignited, grabbing his mouth into his own. He brought their cocks flush together stroking in pulses. Their moans spilled sloppily from each others mouths. He reached around, refusing to be considered shy this time, and pressed a single digit into him until a firm squeeze told him to stop. Felix huffed into his neck, grinding downwards to take in more and Sylvain finding he could accept a second digit rather quickly. “Oh, Sylvain,” he moaned, milking a high pitched whined from him in return. “More,” he begged, biting his ear. He scissored his fingers inside him. “Mmm. Not what I meant,” he pushed his hips toward their combined cocks with a few quick pumps, indicating his meaning, “but, still good.”

Sylvain redirected his focus to their cocks cuddled together in his large hand, working them faster, reveling in the sensation of their ridges snagging against each other. Sylvain felt himself getting close. Felix had gone quiet, a sign he was as well.

A firm hand clasped his wrist, slowly pull his grip off their dicks. Concerned, Sylvain pulled back out of him, adoring the cute exhale Felix gave when he did so completely. “I think you’ve waited long enough,” Felix said with a labored breath. He leaned back onto the ground, lidded eyes starting at Sylvain. No, Sylvain’s mouth. And then tracked down to his flushed dick. He smiled, “You had begged so nicely,” he said still breathing heavily. “Unless you want to beg some more?”

Sylvain didn’t need any more an invitation. He reached down to place his fingers back inside before taking him with his mouth, but was batted away. “I only want your mouth.” The words somehow made him harder. “Also. Choke on my cum again—” Sylvain got him to pause the threat momentarily with a moan thanks to a lick to his shaft, “-and I’m burying you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -HC that Annette is good at math, but she can't estimate distances well. So she's clumsy and sucks at geometry and that's why all her attacks missed in my maddening run  
> -Wholesome Mercedes fawning over Sylvain's willingness to have an honest relationship with Felix. Does a complete 180 in attitude after he admits so and is 1000% ride or die for their relationship. Mercedes von Martritz will absolutely kill a bitch for her friend's happiness and 'teehee' while she does so. Thankfully Sylvain just needed her to lie  
> -Flashes to the ATLA scene where Sokka is laid out with a rose in his mouth. Serves you Sylvain instead.  
> -Okay, so like, all of Ignatz's lost items are paints iirc? So _technically_ Sylvain wasn't stealing when he grabbed the paints from the GD classroom  
> -Oops except I made it canon compliment in that Sylvain totally steals them and later just drops them in the GD room for the Professor to find  
> -Sylvain accidentally gaslighting Ignatz when he goes to paint later and is all "I could have sworn I just mixed up some blue paint..."  
> -Red and Blue swirling together. It them <3  
> -Felix wouldn't really bury his body there. He was trying to be sweet. He'd actually just leave Sylvain's body without burying it at all. RIP Sylvain Jose Gautier, death by cum
> 
> Poor Sylvain just wants that D. Audience, should we let him have it? Vote now with your phone.
> 
> More to come! Expect another update within a week. 
> 
> Pull a Lindhart and indulge yourself with a nap. You deserve it.


	11. The Grand Plan cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain play a game of honesty. 
> 
> Felix has his own Grand Plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of these boyfriends are such brats, I love them.
> 
> Thank you all for the loving comments!

Their first round of fun had been satisfying enough. Sylvain managed to successfully not die on Felix’s cum; although the speed at which Felix had climaxed with he almost did. He’d opened his mouth to be inspected much to Felix’s annoyance, before Felix tackled him to the ground and got him good in a similar manner.

Now they were enjoying an easy cuddle, watching the sun dip lower into the sky, colored glass sparkling around them, and munching on the bread he’d secured from the kitchens. Their time together (date?) could have ended here happily, but Sylvain 'ladykiller' Gautier had The Grand Plan still in action. He uncorked the wine he’d purchased for a different, albeit not altogether dissimilar, occasion that’d never come to fruition.

“You can’t be serious,” Felix said.

“I’m not saying we get drunk, obviously. It’s like, three’o’clock. But _I am_ saying, can’t a guy properly wine and dine his date?” Felix snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. A dusting of color not from the painted glass dangling in front the lowering sun settled on his cheeks. He shot out a hand out for the bottle before Sylvain could comment on it. He passed it gladly and watched as he took a small swig.

“Huh, not bad.”

“Yeah? Let’s play a game then, it’ll help us not go overboard.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what a drinking game is supposed to do?” Sylvain ignored him.

“You ask me a question, and I answer honestly and you pass me the bottle _or_ I refuse to answer and you have to drink. See? It’s in our best interests to keep each other mostly sober, right? Don’t want any nuns catching us walking tipsy in the middle of the day.” He winked.

“This is a trap and you know it.”

“So? I fell for your trap didn’t I? And look where we are.”

“Fine. Why you such an asshole?”

“As if you don’t already know.” Felix leered, unsatisfied. “Shitty dad, absent mom, abusive brother,” he paused sensing Felix wanted more and opted to quote Ingrid from one of their more serious conversations, “‘An undying need to be validated at all times.’ Come on, Fe.”

The bottle hit his chest, “Just checking the ‘answering honestly’ part of your game. Your turn.”

“How long you been crushing on me for?” He asked cheekily.

“Ten. My turn.”

“Ten? Na, uh! Ten what?”

“Ten years old.” Sylvain racked his brain. If Felix had been ten, he’d been around twelve which meant it was before— _wait._ Flashes of a cramped dark and damp area sped through his mind. 

“Really? Why that?” He asked, willfully ignoring the vision.

“My turn.” Sylvain leered this time and only relented after Felix weaponized his smile, but not before kissing him. “Why Tiffany?” Felix asked.

Oh _fuck._ Tiffany had been their sparing tutor’s daughter back when they were early teens at the capitol. She hadn’t been that attractive, but that didn’t stop Sylvain from making out with her, getting caught, and the crown prince needing a new sparring tutor (lest Sylvain be banned thus slighting the Margrave). He didn’t think Felix knew about the incident. He’d been immensely jealous Felix had been spending so much time with her. In hindsight Felix just likes being at the training grounds and she happened to be there too, but—oh _fuck—_ he might have done so as a way to cope with developing feelings for his friend. Huh. Hindsight. What a bitch. He played with the piece of cloth Felix had tied around his wrist from earlier, recalling and recategorizing his emotions. Sylvain didn’t feel like admitting to fucking up something in Dimitri’s life, the man has been through enough even if he wasn’t here. Plus he wanted Felix talking a bit more, so…

“Drink.”

“Coward.” Felix took a swig and passed it. Knowing Felix’s spiteful nature he’d want to get him back, so while he had several burning questions, it was time for a throwaway.

“Was it my ass or my charming personality that won you over?”

Felix huffed. “Stand up.” Still nude, Sylvain stood up to give Felix a prompt view of his ass. Felix placed a hand on a cheek, squeezing and kneading his fingers in. _SMACK_.

"Ah-h!" Felix had suddenly spanked him hard on the ass check.

“Drink.” Sylvain giggled at his predicable-as-fuck boyfriend and drank. An upturn of Felix’s lips showed he was having a good time too, which was good considering where he wanted the questions to lead from now on.

“You think of men at all when you touch yourself? Or only since I blew your mind?” Sylvain lifted his eyebrows, surprised. Saints, sassy Felix was just too good for him.

“Goddess Felix, you want me to touch myself you can just ask.” A lazy hand stroked himself, already a little excited from the spank. He stumbled when Felix didn’t respond to the joke, instead watching him with some damn good bedroom eyes. “But, uh, before you? This? Um, maybe? Never intentionally I think, but there were definitely some dreams I might have wrote off. Heh...” The bottle passed to him. He looked over Felix, lounging naked beside him. He looked so relaxed and at ease, a harsh contrast to how he often appeared outside their times alone.

 _Do you love me? ‘Drink.’_ Sylvain took a swig from the bottle. “That was a freebie,” he said when Felix cocked an eyebrow. He wanted to ask about the well, but that would turn the mood sour and he wanted sex. He continued to stroke himself lazily, his cock slowly filling more and more with time. “Do you want to touch yourself along with me?”

“Yes.” Felix placed hand placed on top his partial. Sylvain passed the bottle.

“Do you really like blowing me?”

“Saints, yes.” Felix smiled. The bottle passed. Sylvain grabbed the cork in anticipation, waiting a moment while they watched each other to heighten their desires. Felix was the first to break, leaning over to place his hands over Sylvain, kissing him down his neck and arm, trailing to the hand on his dick.

He corked the bottle.

“Would you fuck me here?” He asked finally.

“No.” Mmm, he kissed him back, moving to his knees to get ready for— _wait_. ‘NO?’

“What?”

“No.”

Sylvain dropped to all fours, lifting his ass. “How can you say no to this?” 

“No.” Stone. Cold. Felix.

“Please, Felix! I can take it. Give it to me. I-“ he whined louder, arching his back more, “-prepared and everything!”

“Someone has to carry the shame in this relationship and clearly that was never going to be you. I’m not having sex with you on Holy grounds.” Sylvain dropped the position, clearly needing a better argument.

Fine. Sex semantics it is.

“So what would you call everything we did before on these," he lifted his hands in a mocking prayer, "oh so Holy grounds?” Felix mashed his lips together, leering at him. Any intimidation he was attempting utterly failed from to the colored glass display still sparkling around, only serving to make him more attractive and not at all intimidating. His lips twisted, failing to produce a more-accurate-than-sex word. His nostrils flared, a sign of contempt and defeat. “Ha. See? Besides what could be a more romantic first time than this?” He asked, lifting his arms at the display he'd tirelessly worked to put up. He cupped his lovers face in his hands to address him directly, “Please Felix, I want you.” Felix softened and sighed, looking at him with pity.

 _Yes, yes, yes,_ it was working. Felix traced his fingers around his waist and to his ass, kneading them in his hands.

“I assure you, Fodlan’s finest will get the treatment it rightly deserves." He kissed him. "But I’m not fucking you here.”

Sylvain made a garbled noise and held a hand up to his forehead and pretended to faint.

Felix did not catch him.

He peeked open his eyes up towards his boyfriend from the floor. “Since when you been such a devotee? Worried the Goddess might smite you for making me shout her name so loud?”

He leered. Crouching near his head, he violently took off the handkerchief he’d tied upon his wrist from earlier with a single swish. “Oh good,” he spat, “You didn’t lose it.” He flourished his hand to air it out with a satisfying _whack_ , stalking around Sylvain in a slow circle. Sylvain’s blood heated, finding himself melt just from Felix’s hungry gaze and watched as he weaved the piece of cloth through his slender fingers. Sylvain gulped, enchanted by the movement, dance-like in quality. He was a walking piece of art. With beautifully sculpted, lean muscles, forearms bulging from gripping on the cloth and abs so, so unfairly tight they made Sylvain drool, wishing he could ride his tongue over the cut ridges. The dance continued around him while the faux stained glass Sylvain had set up bounced light upon his skin, enhancing the sensual experience that was Felix’s body.

A devilish smile spread across his lover’s face. He’d assumed the rag had been for a quick clean up, the plan having been to rendezvous in public, but the way Felix pulled the cloth taunt between two fists, in a manner that just _commanded_ all of Sylvain’s attention, well, it made him second guess that assumption. “Hands and knees, you buffoon.” Sylvain’s heart faltered. His mouth, dry. He was there before he could blink.

Felix crouched in front of him and lifted his chin to his eye level. His expression softened ever so slightly, in a way only Sylvain, having known him almost a lifetime, could catch. Three fingers tapped on his lips, and he breathlessly took them in. Immediately Felix drove the fingers in and out, twisting his wrist as he went. Sylvain moaned and whined, eyes squeezed shut from the forcefulness, but wanting to make eye contact with Felix so he could drive his desires straight into his fucking soul. _Rail. Me. Now._ He could feel the fire igniting in his brown eyes, just another extra long, needy moan and a flick of his gaze and—

An immediate blow to his ego.

He opened his eyes to see Felix, still crouched with knees pressed together, who had the _audacity_ to look bored. An uncontrollable, embarrassing whine left Sylvain’s messy mouth. “So needy,” Felix sighed. Sylvain was about to push off of Felix, nearly fed up with this, but then he continued in the same bored tone, “I make you that insatiable, huh? A little man whore, wetting his dick in every woman across the town all of less than a month ago, is suddenly begging for cock. _My cock._ ” He pressed his fingers deeper into his mouth at the words. Sylvain managed to get harder, pulsating him completely dumb. “How lucky am I to have you in front of me. An absolute _slut_ for my cum.” How Felix could keep this up with such an even tone was beyond Sylvain. It was driving him mad with heightened lust, whining louder each time he emphasized a word into his throat.

He’d sucked him off so easily before, but now with just three fingers thrusting in and out of his mouth, he felt wrecked. Slobber spilling from his mouth, tears forming around his eyes and yet he _couldn’t_ look away from Felix’s bored eyes, _knowing_ Felix wouldn’t let him. He kept speaking, “I suppose I should be kind, give you what you want.” Sylvain whined in agreement. Felix only laughed darkly. “The thing is, Sylvain, I’ve been wanting this far, _far_ longer than you can imagine.” The depth he sent his fingers in finally triggered his gag reflex, forcing him to pull back and cough into his arm. Felix paid no mind, wiping his fingers on his shoulder.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Felix?” He whined hoarsely. He’d had enough playing around and if his dick and hole ached any more he was going to pass out.

His boyfriend flicked him square on the forehead. _Ow_.

“ _Let me finish,_ ” he hissed. He waited a beat to make sure Sylvain wouldn’t talk again. “The Professor…”

“The Professor?” It was too surprising to not say anything, “Felix, they’re hot and all, but I really just want you. Unless you’re—”

Felix actually growled. Like. Straight up, animal growled at him, standing up to make himself more imposing. _And he calls Dimitri a boar…_

“I knew you wouldn’t shut up.” He walked behind him. The cloth, taunt, dipped in front of his vision. “Open.”

Instincts fought inside his mind. His first was to unequivocally obey.The second was to say something witty back, to catch him off guard and ultimately make him laugh. 

Ah, who the hell was he kidding, this was Felix.

He opened.

The cloth pulled in and tied tight behind his head. “I originally thought I’d need to keep your mouth shut for different reasons. But this will do.” Gentle fingers lifted his chin to meet his eyes. Sylvain tongued around the cloth in the most rude way he could think, trying to verbalize ‘fuck me’ and failing. Felix studied him curiously, a “hrm,” escaping his lips, lost in some thought or memory. “Hold three fingers out in both hands if I go too far, okay?” His tone sounded more neutral than before. Sylvain nodded back tentatively. “Like this-” he showed him and Sylvain nodded again. A soft smile, followed by a kiss on his forehead and his boyfriend retreated to behind him once more. Sylvain crept forward onto his hands and knees.

He could hear the oil vial being used, on what though he could only hope. He looked down between his legs and arms only to see Felix wading towards him. He preemptively started panting.

A finger slid in easily to his hole. A disappointment, but Sylvain moaned nonetheless. “The Professor,” Felix began again. _Jeeze, Felix you really want me to get off on them? I can roll with that I guess._ He recalled almost doing so that morning. Or was Felix into others watching? Seemed possible considering their history so far. “They mentioned signing you up for yet another great knight assessment?”

Oh.

Sylvain moaned an affirmation as another finger joined.

“And you’ve been studying?” This was some weird fucking dirty talk, but like Sylvain could complain. He nodded. “ _Sylvain_ ,” he warned. The fingers hooked inside him sending a fervent whine through him, nodding once more. “Good.” A third finger entered. “So open already. You really are a cumslut.” Sylvain moaned, and thinks he hears Felix licking his lips.

He tried to press back onto his fingers, but a hand soothed along his back, staying his hips. He tried to beg against the gag to no avail. “Not that I doubted you and your incessant whining.” He knows a cue when he hears one. “Ah, yes, Sylvain,” Whoa wait was he touching himself? He craned his neck to try to see. Holy shit. He was. “Here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to pass that stupid exam so you can get that dumb armor you’ve been complaining about so you don’t _fucking die_ on these ridiculous missions the Church keeps sending us off on and _then,”_ he took a breath, _“_ I’ll fuck you.” He groped his ass to make his point. “Until then,” Sylvain moaned deeply as a the fourth digit entered him, leaning his head against the floor to hold himself, “show me what you’d do with my dick inside you.”

The hand on his back was removed, and all that remained was the four long and slender fingers of Felix resting inside him. Sylvain flushed, knowing he hadn’t really thought that far. What more could there be besides Felix dick in = orgasm capitol. But, no, Felix wanted him to _show_ him. And Sylvain would never denied anyone a show. Especially not his boyfriend.

He pushed back into him, quickly ramping up to a self serving tempo, revealing in the effect it seemed to have on Felix who muttered his name several times. The angle felt…inopportune. He walked his hands up his thighs to sit more upright and immediately keened, almost falling back onto the ground. Felix managed to hook an arm around him just in time to hold him up, his nose pressing into his shoulder blade, helping him hit that spot over and over again. “I got you...I got you...keep going...you’re doing so good...so good...Amazing, Sylvain...Oh, Goddess,” he moaned breathily into his back and neck. The cloth inside his mouth saturated with saliva and it was now spilling out over his chin as his own mouth noises echoed inside the tower, cloth only serving to dampen him slightly. It only took a few more drops down onto his hand before Sylvain felt like he was going to explode. Felix must have noticed, “Wait.” Sylvain whined and thrashed mentally against himself to still his body. Felix removed the cloth around his mouth. “Okay.” He rocked his hips against his hand and the beautiful bastard reached down to merely pet his weeping dick. He whined his name, "Fe-Fe-Felix!" It was enough.

The Goddess might not have received any prayers. But Felix sure did.

He came to limp in Felix’s arm gripping him tightly and his body pressed against him. A stickiness between Felix’s stomach and his right side connected them. The realization of Felix spending himself without Sylvain noticing fucking sucked, but least he seemed to have enjoyed his show. He laughed, “was as good for you as it was good for me, babe?”

He deserved it. Hell, he kind of expected it before he’d even said it. He still said it anyways.

Felix ejected his fingers from his hole in a not entirely kind way. Sylvain keened. Worth it.

He continued laughing as he collapsed backwards into Felix’s arms who in returned peppered his neck with kisses. “It was,” he whispered affectionately, “don’t call me babe.” _How ‘bout ‘love?’_

“Boyfriend,” He corrected. Felix nibbled his ear in approval.

“Mm, mine.”

“Yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Dimitri had been so attached to their sparring tutor cause it had been the same one Glenn learned under, but his uncle needed to appease the Margrave. Said sparring tutor was transferred to Galatea without anyone besides Sylvain knowing why. Felix had his suspicions of course. Tiffany and Ingrid were fast friends oc  
> -Felix's first goal in life is to make sure his friends do not die.  
> -His second goal in life is to dick down Sylvain.  
> -The order is non-negotiable
> 
> That mood when your boyfriend critiques your study habits by denying you the D.
> 
> Next update on Friday!!
> 
> When was the last time you had some water? Hydrate.


	12. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain just thinks Felix is cute, okay? And would very much like to hold his hand. 
> 
> Felix...thinks about it.

They fought back the urge to fall asleep as the four'o'clock bells tolled. Sylvain technically had stable duties at four. It was the one thing he hadn’t really accounted for in his Grand Plan, but he figured he could get away with skipping it if needed. He was paired with Marianne for the week after all, and she wouldn’t tell a soul besides the animals themselves (and even then he was certain she’d be happier for his absence).

Sylvain had wanted to hold his hand so badly on the way back to the officer’s campus it was physically hurting him, but he was fairly certain Felix wanted the same thing based off of how tightly he was gripping his sword hilt. And from the way he blushed every time Sylvain caught his eyes. And how he seemed to laugh at everything and nothing Sylvain said. And how he “fixed” his already perfect hair to hide a smile from him. The second time he did it, Sylvain grabbed his arm out of the way to gaze upon him. They stopped, Felix’s shining face looking right back. His hand trailed down his arm, almost interlocking their fingers as their arms dropped. They were on the quad by this point, and still wanted to keep their relationship quiet in fear of Ingrid. If only Sylvain could freeze time and kiss him without anyone noticing.

Hilda screeching with laughter off in the distance pulled them out of the moment.

“So hows your deadly hay allergy going?” Felix quickly said.

“Not nearly as bad as your strawberry allergy, but Marianne understands I sometimes need to get away.”

“Did Mercedes actually believe your bullshit or,”

“Oh, absolutely not. She knows.”

“Hrmph.” _Acceptable._ “Dedue as well.”

“What!? How.”

“Don’t know.”

“Then how do you know.”

“He suggested as much.”

“And you’re okay, with, that?”

Felix shrugged, “Everyone’s going to figure it out sooner or later.”

“But Ingrid—”

“Will have to get through my blade before she lays a finger on you,” he said as if it were an obvious fact. Sylvain stopped and beamed at him. Gah, why did he want to kiss him so much. Screw it. If people are finding out already, he's doing it.

“Fe,” he leaned in. Felix placed a hand on his chest and scoffed.

“Need reminding of the Professor’s warning?” ' _Anything more than hand holding…'_

“Then hold my hand,” he teased, presenting it. Felix rolled his eyes, ignoring said hand. The long walk had finally frozen him over. Sylvain didn’t mind so much. Just meant that Felix’s soft looks and smiles were only for him. “Right, of course not! I’ll just have to find some lucky lady to do so instead,” he winked. Two could play at this game.

The leer from Felix immediately informed him he’d lose this game every time. “Kidding! Kidding! ‘sides there's no time to be chasing the ladies when I should be heading in early to study. Big exam coming up and all.” He gave Felix A Look.

Felix responded with a head twitch, eyes quietly darting to an alleyway. They looked at each other for a beat and Felix turned wordlessly to the alleyway. His cock stirred for a fourth time that day, and he followed.

Turned out the alleyway was the only known entrance to the Abyss, situated between the dormitory building and the sauna. Well, there had to be other entrances, but it was the one you knew about if you knew the right people. With Yuri and Hapi auditing the Professor’s classes, the entire Blue Lions knew of it.

“Is this okay?” Felix asked.

“I mean, I’m getting pretty tired, but I can certainly go again.” He pressed him against the wall gently, kissing his neck.

“No,” he pushed him off, “I mean, what I did.” He stared at him, confused. “Holding off, the demands.” He touched Sylvain’s lips softly, reminding him of the cloth that’d been present earlier. “All of _that.”_

“Felix, it’s whatever you want. I will literally do anything that makes you happy. Always.”

“Tch,” Felix scowled, turning away from him. Okay, wrong answer. Somehow? How’d he fuck that up. No, there’s fucking no way. Making Felix smile is the furthest thing from wrong.

He threw his hands up, “How can that possibly be a bad thing?”

“You inconsiderate—what about yourself!” He spat.

“What about me? This is about you, I—“ He almost said it, but Felix stopped him.

“No, Sylvain, this is about _us.”_ His voice was getting louder and was breathing heavy.

“I—“

“You can’t just go around doing whatever you think pleases everyone,” Felix jeered.

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do—“

“It’s different with—“

“Shove it, I don’t want to hear it.”

“But—“

“Just let me do the same!” Felix shouted. Sylvain’s face reddened, and went quiet, heart spiking for reasons that weren’t fun. Felix looked embarrassed at himself, closing his eyes as if that would take him away from his words. “I just,” he barely whispered, “I want you to be as happy as you make me.” Sylvain’s eyes widened. “You—“ Sylvain pulled him into a deep hug before he could speak more.

“You do.” He kissed him on the lips. “You do, you do, you do,” and kissed him once more, fearful he could disappear at any moment. “Felix you make me so happy, you always have.” His voice had cracked, and he pulled back and away from Felix’s neck to see him blurred by tears. Felix wiped them away, his mouth twitching in an unusual manner that Sylvain couldn’t decipher. He opted to kiss him again instead.

It was just lips meeting lips, but had somehow felt more passionate than all other kisses with Felix before and all other kisses ever. Every stretch of it sung “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He wanted to pull back to speak the words into existence, but did he really need to? He could feel it spilling out from both their bodies, hands clinging to each other, a driving need to mash their bodies into one.

He walked Felix backwards into the wall, towering over him, lips moving fast with a need to showcase a lifetime of affection for him. For all the times he stood with him while he panicked. For the times he helped heal his wounds. And the times he listened to his nightmares, night after night. For the few brave times he stood up to Miklan on his behalf. And for all the times he made him laugh when he couldn’t. For all of that and more, Sylvain kissed Felix.

Sylvain wasn’t backing down and Felix was meeting every challenge Sylvain was putting out. Their location was off the beaten path, but anyone coming up from Abyss would immediately catch them. And there was no way they wouldn’t be kicked out if caught like this, not after the first time.

But they’d be kicked out together. The Margrave would be frothing at the mouth and there’s no way the Duke wouldn’t be upset too. Maybe it’d be the push Felix needed to finally renounce his title. Sylvain would so do it in a heartbeat along with him. Then they could travel. Find their own home. Carve out their own path together without Crests or country duty.

Shit. This was sounding like a great plan.

Sylvain dropped his hand between Felix’s legs, rubbing his erection while he grinded on his thigh. Felix huffed some noises of protests, but all else signs pointed to ‘more please.’ Sylvain broke off from his lips to give him a chance to verbalize any protests. Instead there was the softest of whines falling from Felix's lips and he bucked into Sylvain's hand. He went to whisper ‘I want us to get caught,’ into his ear, dreams of a future with Felix fueling him. 

The Goddess must have a great sense of humor.

Instead as he opened his lips he heard, “WHAT!?”

The both turned, panicked.

Ingrid, freshly out of the sauna, was for no apparent reason, making her way down to the Abyss and had turned the corner to encounter the two of them passionately making out. Or, from her perspective, Sylvain absolutely having his way with Felix.

“What the fu-ck?” Her voice broke. A hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide.

“Ingrid—” They both said, and then looked at each other. Would have been cute had all alarm bells not been going off inside his head. Footsteps tore their attention away from each other and they turned to see Ingrid running away.

“Ingrid, wait!” Sylvain called out, moving to chase after her, but Felix stepped in front of him. “Felix, we got to go after her!”

“No.” _No?_ Seventeen emotions ran through Sylvain’s mind and must have shown on his face, but Felix had always been better at processing a battlefield quicker. “When was the last time you heard Ingrid swear?”

“Never.” He could taste the bile already.

“And the last time she ran away? Instead of confronting a problem head on?”

He swallowed, not needing to say it. _Glenn._

Ingrid wasn’t pissed. She was hurt. And that was so much worse—colossally worse—than being the source of her murderous intent.

It meant he’d been a bad friend.

* * *

The next morning Dedue had shown instead of Ingrid for weeding duty.

By the time the rest of the world was awake people were aware Sylvain and Felix were an item. After classes were over news of their public displays had become common knowledge. And, by lunch it was clear rumors were spreading around about Ingrid and Sylvain. The longer the day went on the worse they got. 

She had a giant crush on him and he led her on. They were dating and he was two timing her. He’d rejected her marriage proposal. He tried to fuck her on a pegasus, or did indeed fuck her on a pegasus and nearly dropped her. That she liked it in the ass. Or they’d invited Felix in for a threesome and he picked Felix over her because she wouldn’t take it in the ass.

Then of course there were all the rumors about his own sexuality. Not that he paid those any mind. He didn’t care. People would and could saying anything about Sylvain Jose Gautier. But Ingrid? Ingrid didn’t deserve any of this.

From experience he knew trying to calm the flames himself would only serve to fan them larger. He tried though. For Ingrid and for Felix.

Mercedes interrupted his futile efforts with a plate of cookies. “Let us handle this, Sylvain.” Oh. Yeah. Cause seeing Dimitri give him scowling judgmental looks every time he passed him to put out another fire felt totally ‘handled.’

“I’m such an ass.” He buried his face into his hands.

“I don’t disagree.”

“Ha.”

“But from what you’ve told me, in this situation, you did nothing wrong. You followed your heart! And that’s an amazing, incredibly brave thing, Sylvain. I’m very proud of you.”

“Ingrid doesn’t deserve this.”

“No, and that’s why we’re taking care of it. You just need to hang back while we take care of these terrible rumors and then when everyone’s calmed down you and Felix can explain yourselves to her. I’m sure she’ll understand!”

By dinner the rumor was Ingrid had asked the Professor to switch houses. Least the cookies had been good.

Felix had, of course, made himself as fucking sparse as could be and Sylvain was starting to see the appeal. If he could survive being stranded in the winter mountains at seven he could survive a few nights in the Monastery woods. Wait for the whole thing to blow over. ‘Course that wouldn’t fix the fact he’d gone and upset one of his best friends who’d probably never ever talk to him again for _at least_ the next millennium.

Ah, shit. He could feel it. Teetering on the edge of depression. He should stop thinking. Focus on literally anything else. Like how he’d never get to see the Galatea pegasus ranch again. Or go riding through the fields on horseback with her. Or have bets on who could throw the fallen apples from the grove the furthest. Or have her punch his guts out after he’d go on one of his stupid benders. Or…fuck.

“Sylvain,” a deep voice protruded his thoughts. He looked up to see Dedue. Great. His Royal Highness probably was ready to give him his scolding. “I have just returned from a talk with His Highness and Felix.” Bingo.

“Oh? And you’re here to summon me for my spanking?” If Dedue was confused by the phrasing, he didn’t say.

“His Highness indeed requires a word with you, but not today.”

“Great. Tell him I have an exam tomorrow at nine, but can otherwise pencil him in.” Again, Dedue made no tell on if he understood the joke or not.

“Felix has informed me of such exam. He suggested I use my time to assist you in your studies. His Highness agreed. I am quite versed in the proper uses and adornment of armor.” Huh. So Felix had asked Dedue to help him. Maybe he knew he needed to take his mind off things. He wished for a snuggle with Felix instead.

“Sure. I still don’t know what the fuck a fauld of four lames is supposed to do anyway.”

“His Highness wishes me to remind you—“

“Language, yeah, yeah, help me study already.”

* * *

_Knock, knock._

“I’m studying!” Sylvain shouted from his desk. It was nine and he still had a bit of energy left in him for another hours worth.

“Sylvain.” The Professor’s voice rang from the other side of the door. Not entirely surprising. They’d missed checking on his curfew, which was also not entirely surprising given the day. He unlocked the door. “Can I come in?”

They eyed the spread out books and bits of armor Dedue had lent him strewn across the bed.

“I think I’m almost set for the exam tomorrow,” he said lacking energy to sound cheerful.

“Has Ingrid talked to you?”

He snorted. “Why would Ingrid want to talk to me? Don’t know if you’ve exactly heard Professor, but she’s kind of upset with me.”

“I’ve heard.” They stared blankly at him. He waited for them to say more, but offered nothing. They didn’t appear to be mad at him, but they also didn’t appear to be anything with him. Not being able to read them always threw Sylvain off. Was likely the reason he’d shared so much with them early on.

“Is she really going to transfer houses?”

“No, Manuela and I wouldn’t allow it so late in the year.” Shit, so that hadn't been a rumor. He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. He looked down, counting the white lines in the carpet below their feet. “It’s not your fault, Sylvain.”

“She’s my _best_ friend, Professor, and I _lied_ to her. I’ve told her about every single shitty relationship I've been in. But we hid this one from her ‘cause we knew she wouldn’t like it and would you look at that.”

“So is this one also shitty? With Felix?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Is it though?”

“No, of course not...I-it’s Felix.” he said. They placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed until he looked up at them.

“This isn’t your fault,” they said powerfully, allowing time to let the words sink in, “But you do need to stop making out with him in public.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hilda laughs because she didn't believe Raphael could use a leaf and his nose to play the Alliance anthem and cackled when he proved otherwise. Claude loses a bet with Ignatz over it. Commoner kids ftw.  
> -I'm sorry, are you missing rumors about Felix? He's motherfucking swordboy. Nobody makes rumors about sword boy without regretting it.  
> -Sylvain made **one (1)** joke about fucking on top a pegasus and Ingrid will _never_ let it down. She's still upset about it in fact, but less about Sylvain sexing and more about him disrespecting the pegasus.  
> -Meanwhile Felix has actually been doing a great job at dispelling the rumors, because he's a mother fucking sword boy.  
> -Until Dimitri is all "you can't be threatening every student with your blade just because they're saying crude things about Ingrid and Sylvain, Felix" and Felix is like "fucking watch me you boar"  
> -The Professor breaks it up  
> -They are very tired  
> -The rumors are 100% spread by Lorenz casually dropping hints that Hilda exacerbates and is then picked up by Dorothea which then travels to Caspar and is subsequently naturally heard by everyone.  
> -Linhardt, however, is the one who made them spicy  
> -Claude aka mr holds the alliance in a stalemate for 5 years, tries his best to keep the deer under wraps. Sadly still first person Felix threatens.  
> -Protip! If you feel yourself teetering on the edge of depression, you're already there (next chapter TW!)  
> -The cookies Mercedes baked were snickerdoodle.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kind words! Next update within a week =)
> 
> Go eat some cookies. Cause even if you're sad, least there were cookies <3


	13. Triangle-Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain's mood worsens and wants to be left alone.
> 
> Ashe seeks him out.  
> So does Ingrid.  
> And Dimitri.  
> And Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for depression and some language around dissociation.

Sylvain never studied for exams. He was just that good.

But heavy armor?

Fuck.

That.

Shit.

He’d never had to study for something so much in his life. This great knight exam was going to be the death of him. Thank the Saints Felix had promised him a reward for good behavior. He probably would have just crashed into a depression coma and slept through the exam had it not been for that.

His foot tapped anxiously under the desk. Teeth mashed his lips, twisting them and bitting off skin, and his pencil was starting to wear grooves into the wood where he’d been originally tracing the grain.

He’d finished the exam ten minutes ago.

And the Professor was still grading.

* * *

After the exam he dragged his feet back to his room, wanting to crawl into a slumber that could rival Linhardt’s.

It was technically a free day. There were no extra seminars to attend and with the mission coming up in a few days the Professor had ordered everyone to relax.

His body? Sure. His mind? Not so much.

So it was a free day. And he went back to bed. It had nothing to do with the fact Ingrid was still likely crying her eyes out somewhere. Or that she was also likely doing so on the shoulder of a newer, better best friend. Or that she’d relent about her old shitty best friend who had been making out with her crush to said better best friend. Definitely had nothing to do with the fact said crush was no where to be found. And certainly didn’t have anything to do with not wanting to speak with His Highness regarding his recent outdoor activities.

Nope. He just went to bed because he’d been tired from studying.

He slept, but not really; he dreamt, but not really. His body tossed and ached; hollowed and floated. He could hear the bells toll at every hour, but they felt distorted. He managed toexperience expansive bizarre dreamscapes that felt like years of time had passed between a single toll. Sometimes the bells sounded like weaponry clashing together, and other times a knocking on his skull. It all didn’t matter. He’d finally done something Ingrid wouldn’t forgive him for.

Hunger was what finally kept him awake long enough to discern reality from dream, although he doesn’t remember making the decision to get up. He sat for a moment, bare feet feeling the texture of the wooden floor beneath them.

_knock-knock-knock._

A polite knock sounding much too like the bells that had tolled through his psyche, echoed from his door. He stayed still, hearing feet shuffle from behind the door. _Do I get it?_ The knot in his stomach said no, but the brighter side of him reminded him that it could be Felix. _No, he would say._ Whoever it was didn’t have much patience, and he heard them walk away. His shoulders relaxed, and he plopped sideways back into bed.

He guessed he stared at the wall for about thirty minutes when he couldn’t ignore his stomach any longer.

The bells tolling as he sheepishly made his way to the dining hall informed him it was three. The hall was empty save for a few souls using the space to study, their stares upon him entering indicating the rumors were still circulating. He was musing around the idea of trying to find Felix and on what scale of annoyed he’d be if they were seen together with the current state of things when Ashe called out to him, “Sylvain! Gosh I haven’t seen you all day, want to join me? I was about to head into town, I heard the nut vendor was back!”

_Heh. Nut._

“Uh, sure, sounds great.” He didn’t have anything better to do. He watched as Ashe’s brows furled.

“You okay, Sylvain? I have to admit it’s somewhat unlike you to not make…I just expected you to make, you know, some sort of joke…” The level of uncomfortableness Ashe was experiencing could be measured based off of the shade of red on his cheeks. It was the first amusing thing Sylvain had experienced all day.

“I don’t think I understand,” he smiled wolfishly.

“A-a joke? About…” A lovely rose color now.

“Well, come now, let’s hear this joke, Ashe.” Tomato red splashed his cheeks as his lips twisted in a confounded way.

“ _I_ am not above such crude jokes, I’ll have you know. I just—“

“Mhmmm?” Sylvain sung.

“Can we please just go,” he let out all in one breath, “get…some nuts.” The deepest of red wine danced across his speckled face. Sylvain laughed. Saints he needed to laugh.

“Ah, my dearest friend Ashe, I would _love_ to eat nuts with you.” He clasped an arm around the silver haired boy’s shoulders and they walked into town.

* * *

“So, erm, you and Felix, huh?” They sat on a bench enjoying the warm caramelized walnuts and pecans. It was a nice treat considering the nip in the air. Ashe had even offered to pay like a proper date and everything.

“Yup. Me and Felix.” He tossed a pecan up into the air and caught it in is mouth.

“I-I guess it’s just surprising and all, considering—“

“I’ve slept with half the ladies in this town?” Ashe blushed again.

“That’s not what I was implying!”

“Oh come on, Ashe, everyone at the Academy has been saying it. There’s no way you haven’t thought it. Either I’ve been lying to everyone woman I’ve flirted with or been lying to myself.”

“And which is it?”

Sylvain shrugged, “Neither, really. I mean I’m always lying to women. Just ask them—“

Ashe chuckled, “Usually you don’t need to—“

“Hey now! Here I thought we were having a nice, romantic date.” Ashe’s cheeks tinted at that. Interesting. “I’m just saying both are great.”

“Both?” Sylvain thinks Ashe may have lost track of the conversation.

“Women and men,” he clarified.

“Or more accurately, you mean half the ladies in town, and Felix,” Ashe teased.

“You are known for you accuracy,” he winked, tossing another nut into his mouth.

“Caspar’s the same way, you know.”

Sylvain gasped, “How dare he, Felix and I are exclusive!”

“No! Arg! I meant—“

“Chill, man,” Sylvain laughed, “I know what you meant. And yeah, I knew.”

“Oh,” Ashe said, trailing off in thought. Silence hung in the air for a time. Sylvain finished off his bag of nuts while doingsome mental math.

“So you like Caspar?”

“WHAT?!” Ashe nearly fell off his seat. Sylvain laughed, knowing his math had been correct.

“Nah, I get it. You two go pretty well together.”

“Sylvain, I—wait, you think so?" Ashe said, tone lifting.

“Yeah! I mean, why not? Is this why you asked me out? Are you unsure about him?” He looked at Ashe who had his head turned away from him.

“I—yes,” he sighed heavily.

“Have you two, like, kissed or anything yet?” Sylvain was needing to come up with names for the new shades of red on Ashe’s cute freckled face.

“No! He—he doesn’t even know that I…might, you know.”

“Oh,” Sylvain said with understanding, “He thinks you only like half the ladies in town.”

“Yeah,” Ashe admitted bashfully.

Sylvain shrugged, “Just kiss him. Worked out for me. Well,” he stopped, remembering Ingrid. _It almost did._

“I can’t just—you really think so?” He looked at him hopeful.

“Hey, man, you’re the one asking _me_ for relationship advice.”

* * *

He felt better after hanging out with Ashe and decided his mood was cheerful enough to tolerate any coldness Felix would spew his way. It was free day after all. And he could hug his boyfriend if he wanted to, rumors be damned.

Heading up from the marketplace he checked Felix’s usual haunts (all of two of them, not including the obvious spot) to a resounding result of no Felix hugs, an over abundance of stares and whispers, and one particularly scathing look from Dorothea.

Feeling discouraged he rounded back to his dorm, but managed to work up the nerve to check the training grounds for his raven haired, stone cut beauty. He doubted he’d be there. It was the first place anyone knew to look for Felix and not many had been able to find him the past day and a half. 

Sylvain quietly paced around the perimeter of the grounds, doing his best to stay in the shadows of the surrounding archways. There were some particular nooks Felix preferred to stay in during busier times of the day, or just during the times he wanted to be left alone (but like, _more_ alone than usual). He heard the doors to the grounds open, unsure if someone entered or left, but completed his Felix-less circuit and discreetly made his leave.

Too bad right as he opened the door, he caught the blue cloak of Dimitri sashaying his way towards him.

“Sylvain! A word please.”

He panicked. _Whoops, sorry what? Didn’t hear you, man. Damn doors so creaky here._ He let the door shut quickly and thanked the Saints ~~Dedue’s~~ **his** room was right nearby. A quick sprint and he could avoid yet another royal talking down to.

He used to think himself lucky. Perhaps when Felix had moaned into his mouth that fateful night he’d used up all the luck he had left in his body. Maybe it had never been luck to begin with.

Regardless, he sprinted towards his door and skidded in his tracks upon seeing Ingrid knocking on it. She turned, their eyes meeting like two scared prey in the wilderness.

The doors to the training grounds creaked open behind him.

And footsteps from the Abyss entrance belonging to a familiar raven haired figure piqued his attention.

“Sylvain,” all three chorused out.

Ingrid, sounded surprised, but still hurt. Her voice was rough, like she’d be crying for quite some time. _Because she was,_ he reminded himself.

Dimitri, firm and authoritative. Could have easily replaced his name with “Stop! Fiend!’ And conveyed the exact same thing. _Thanks, your Highness._

And finally Felix, saying his name with a surprised warmth. He instinctually took a step towards that one.

The three verbal assailants stood silently as they eyed each other, all equally surprised by the encounter. They formed some kind of tri-attack formation around Sylvain who could feel the panic rising in his chest. _Now, now, these are your friends. You can talk yourself out of anything. Be cool._

“That is my—“ Sylvain had unknowingly let open the floodgates. All three berated into the air at the same time. Least one of them only seemed to be addressing him this time.

“I told you to—”

“Dimitri, I said I—“

“We need to discuss—”

“—back off, boar.”

“—wanted to handle this myself!”

“—Your behavior.”

His felt his breath was quickening. Why did it feel like he was on a battlefield. He wasn’t on a battlefield. The three paused, Ingrid and Dimitri for the sake of allowing the other to speak, Felix for the sake of glowering at Dimitri.

Sylvain took a _casual_ step towards his room, image of the panicked face of Bernadetta all alone on the center mound during the mock Battle of Eagle and Lion flying across his mind. Except there were no lances or spells currently being flung.

“Oh, my apologies—“

“Your Highness my mistake—“

“He doesn’t need you—“

“—please you speak first.”

“—please you first.”

“—scolding him like a child,” Felix’s hissing voice lingered last.

“Felix, as house leader it is my—“ Dimitri started, completely ignoring Ingrid. Sylvain took another _casual_ step away from the center of this assault. Felix eyed him approvingly and made to close the gap between Sylvain a Dimitri with a _not-so-casual_ step. “—duty to address any and all situations that may arise. Including a-a lover’s spat.” Ingrid’s face reddened.

“This is _not_ a lover’s spat!”

“It’s been handled already—“

“—with all due respect,” Ingrid added awkwardly.

“—Go boast your false moral pride elsewhere, boar.”

“Felix!” Ingrid said, aghast.

“It’s quite alright, Ingrid,” Dimitri smoothed out.

The three friends ( _his_ three friends? His boyfriend and friends? His boyfriend, ~~friend~~ his Highness, and ex-friend?) continued quarreling over respect and morals while Sylvain slowly stepped his way out of the situation. He was nearly at the door to the Professor’s bedroom, but the panic of being surrounded had finally settled and instead a wave of discomfort hit him. It felt entirely too awkward to be leaving a conversation so clearly centered around him.

“Right, you all seem to have this situation taken care of-” All eyes darted to him. Sylvain gulped. Him and his dumb mouth. “I’ll just—“ he pointed to his room, but his words fizzled out as Dimitri strode over at an alarming rate.

Felix immediately blocked his path, placing a hand on his chest and another darting to his sword hilt. Ingrid stepped to clear the path for Dimitri. All the tension in the air was driving Sylvain mad, hairs on his neck picking up. It was like all the times when his father would be shouting at Miklan for this or that, while exulting Sylvain for some stupid shit he’d happen to do. Bonus points for his mother standing by doing and saying nothing at all. No violence was ever had, but it was always a prelude to _something_.

He tried the handle on his door. _Shit_. He’d locked it. _Where’s that fucking key._ He fumbled with his jacket and pants.

Dimitri had stepped back. “Hrmph,” he huffed. It was one hundred percent unreadable, which only served to alert him more. What’s gotten into Dimitri? He seems far too on edge for a regular royal talking down to. Is it because of Ingrid?

He looked to her now, arms crossed and gaze trying to catch his eye every now and then. She looked, almost apologetic? That was something he hadn’t expected. Sylvain’s worries softened, knowing some of his assumptions were wrong.

“Hey Dimitri,” Sylvain called out, wanting to set things straight, or at the very least deescalate, but Dimitri’s eyes were locked with Felix’s and if he’d heard him, he made no tell.

“Sylvain,” Ingrid said softly.

“Yeah, that’s my name. You all worried I forgot it or something?”

“ _Sylvain,”_ she said with the familiar sweet tone of annoyance he loved.

He chuckled, and then scratched the back of his ear unsure. He looked over to Felix and Dimitri, lost in their own conversation now. “You, uh, wanted to talk?”

“I, erm, yes.” Neither of them were ever very good at this. Wait, _none_ of them were very good at this. It was only by the Goddess’s gift their friendship had lasted this long and if the Goddess was merciful, and if Ingrid’s eyes were to be believed, maybe they’d still be friends after this.

* * *

Stupid key had been in his back pocket.

Once inside they spoke in unison.

“I’m sorry—“

“I need to apologize—“

They looked at each other once more, eyes wide. Until laughter broke out between them.

“Can you believe it?” Ingrid said, “Me? Apologizing to you!”

“Honestly? I can’t. What, is it topsy-turvy day or something?”

“Honestly.” The laughter subsided, ending with awkward sighs.

“Erm, do you want to sit?”

“No. I’m fine.” Sylvain knew yet another uncomfortable pause was coming. The number of times tensions had risen and subsided by now had quaked something inside his guts. His mouth might run him into trouble yet again, but he couldn’t tolerate this anymore.

“Listen, after your thing with Felix I—“

“No, please, Sylvain I need to explain.” He looked at her with mild surprise. “I-I talked with Felix. I-“ she swallowed. She was speaking too slowly for his liking.

Dreading another silence he spoke to fill the space, “I know it’s my fault. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, really."

“Wait, so it was you!?”

“Huh?”

“Felix said it was him who made the bet?” Oh. Whoops. Wait, Felix covered for him?

“Uh, well, maybe it had been him. I don’t know it was kind of a night…”

“Oh, no, no, no, Sylvain. What happened?” Ah, fuck.

“Well, um. I thought—“ _Come on, divert!_ “Hey weren’t you the one who knew Felix was gay _before_ trying to seduce him?” He regretted it instantly, her face having become a color he’d never seen it do before, cheeks puffing up in a manner he only saw once before. It was still very cute.

“Ack! That! Is none of your—He said he’d had some experience—and besides he was—arg! No!” She shook her head, “I’ve discussed my misplaced feelings with Felix already and I _do not_ need to do so with _you.”_ He lifted up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay.” He’d get the information from Felix later anyhow, “You were apologizing?”

“Yes, thank you,” her tone cooled. “As I said, I had some misplaced feelings and I understand now why you and Felix might have wanted to keep your…relationship hidden from me. I just want you to know, that I am okay with it. I am. Truly. I just was…a little taken aback. By. Everything.”

“Everything?”

She groaned, “Your hand was in his crotch, Sylvain!” Heh, damn right it was. “And! You—“ she huffed, calming herself, deflating that damn cute puffiness that tagged along with her frustrations in favor of seriousness, “I just—“

“Ingrid, the Professor said you asked to switch houses. That’s a little more than taken aback.”

“Okay, yes, you’re right.” She looked on the verge of tears. “After Felix spoke with me I just, realized how awful I’ve been treating you. I thought what kind of friend must I be that he’d hide something like this from me? After all we’ve been through…I should have been kinder. I’m sorry.” She was trying to hold back the tears, but they were looking all too threatening from Sylvain’s point of view.

He held open his arms, “Come here.” She collided into him, tears wetting his shirt. “You’re the kindest person out there Ingrid. We all know I need a good kick in the ass every now and then. Who else could I trust to do so, but you?”

She sniffled, “But—“

“Just don’t kick too hard, Felix is quite fond of it.”

“UGH!” She shoved off him and Sylvain looked at her with a shit eating grin.

“I suppose I could be kinder as well,” he said jokingly, but being completely serious. “I was really going to miss our rides through the orchards.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You’re the only one who tolerates them with me. Like I’d take anyone else.” She sighed, a natural lull occurring in their banter, only this time Sylvain didn’t feel the need to fill it. “You know,” Ingrid said in a way that indicated she was trying to rile him up. “Felix told me he’s been crushing on you for like, an eternity. Figures two boneheads like you would end up—"

“Boning each other?” Her eyes flew wide, a gasp escaping her mouth. Sylvain smiled so hard his cheeks hurt when she lunged at him, playfully smacking him several times. “Ouch! Hey! I don’t under—“ he dodged one of her arms, “—stand how you could have—” _smack “—_ said anything else!”

“TOGETHER. You two end up _together.”_

“Yeah! ‘Together,’” he incited, making a crude hand gesture. She batted his hands down with a little too much force.

“Would you _stop_! Ugh! Just because I said I’m okay with it doesn’t mean I—I’m still working through some things, okay?”

“Oh, shit,” he softened. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t. But like we’ve both said. We could work on being little kinder to each other.”

“Yeah," he ruminated. "Gee, when I fuck things up with Felix I’ll understand it when he gets to keep you in the friendship divorce.”

“Friendship divorce? And not ‘when’ Sylvain, _’if,”_ she said.

“No, it’s definitely ‘when,’ have you met me?”

“Unfortunately,” she rolled her eyes. “But this is Felix. He doesn’t back down from a challenge. Saints know _you’re_ one.” She paused to read his face, and for a moment he was concerned she could see all his vulnerabilities right there. Thankfully, unlike Felix, she was never very good at reading past his built up falsities. “I can tell how happy he makes you. I’m sure you two will figure it out.” Well, that surprised him.

“Ingrid?” It totally wasn’t getting misty in here.

“What?” He pulled her in for the biggest hug he reserves only for, well, only for Ingrid. But it was the kind she got only after their most intimate of talks. Guess this more than qualified for one.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Sylvain.”

* * *

“Love you, Ing!” He quipped to her as she left.

“Oh, shove it,” she said. He knew she didn’t mean it.

He turned to head back in, surprised to see Felix slinking out from his usual waiting place. He stopped to say hey, but Felix walked right past him into the room. He hadn’t looked at him either and Sylvain sensed his mood might still be sour from interacting with Dimitri. He shut the door behind them.

“Well?” Felix spat.

“Uh, yeah, Ingrid and I seem to back on good terms again.” Felix continued to glared at him. Was that not what he’d been waiting on? “Your talk with Dimitri go bad or something?” He watched as Felix huffed and adjusted his posture into something more…relaxed? Well, relaxed by Felix’s terms.

“Well?” He said again, this time more anxiously. Sylvain blinked at him, what could he possibly— _Oh._

“Sixty-Seven! I Passed!”

The two corners of his mouth first pulled apart before lifting into a devilish sort of look, accented by the sparkle from his amber eyes. But then they kept going, revealing Felix’s toothy smile. The one that was actually sort of dumb in it’s own charming way. The one that grounded Sylvain to this reality, and to this happiness he knew he had to cherish and foster above all else. He was then only warned with a brief flash of hunger in his eyes.

Felix _pounced_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Ashe, but in the voice of Hans from Zoolander "Just kiss him...It's so simple."  
> -Sylvain being out and making everyone else question themselves. mm, yes, very good.  
> -Felix really just been going around being like. BE NICE TO SYLVAIN. OR ELSE. I STAB YOU.  
> -So sorry he didn't pass with a 69% Truly I am a coward, but like we all knew in game when you saw that 67% chance of pass we be like nah fam that's 100% every time.
> 
> And so it was, within Garreg Mach, that on that day of Sylvain's good mark did Felix's heart grew three sizes.  
> Merry Dickmas everyone.
> 
> Feel free to yell at me. Preferably about FE3H, but you know, I'm not picky.
> 
> Be an Ashe for someone today. Reach out to a friend you haven't heard from in a while. =)


	14. Entice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain discovers he has desires that go deeper than Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth on this but ultimately I decided to split dickmas into 3 parts. Like when your relatives live in separate cities and you end up having the same holiday 3 times? Except this is probably more fun. Enjoy the upcoming 10k+ of sylvix porn.
> 
> To set the mood, why not take a look at NaughtyRabbit10's [art](https://twitter.com/NaughtyRabbit10/status/1310627474968137728) art based from chapters 1-3?
> 
> Spoiler CW in end notes, PDA related  
> CW for Bondage

He barely had time to catch himself before landing on the bed, Felix’s body looming over his. Despite the immediacy, the kissing was not rushed, but studied in their practice of each others bodies. Felix’s hands hung onto Sylvain’s jawline, pulling him deeper into his embrace, tongue reaching into his mouth. Sylvain played with him inside his mouth, nibbling and suckling gently, evoking needy moans from his lover. He grabbed his hips to pull him closer and was surprised when Felix eagerly repeated the action, grinding into him.

“Mmrph, off,” Felix said sloppily against his lips. Sylvain pulled back to take off his shirt, delighting to see Felix had managed to already take off his vest during the kissing and expertly working to take off his own.

Fingers ran through his chest hair, squeezing his pecks gently as Felix’s mouth returned to his lips. Thumbs brushed against his nipples—a loud moan left Sylvain that surprised both of them.

“Mm, sensitive today?”

“Heh, ah-h, I guess,” he moaned out as Felix continued playing with his nipples, moving his mouth to them, sending Sylvain to near orgasmic levels of arousal. If he were in his right mind he’d know the day’s total coming and goings of his moods had left even his nerves haggard, but this was horny Sylvain with a _very_ horny Felix on top of him. It was not the time nor the place to be psychoanalyzing himself; it was time for delighting his boyfriend with his body.

Hands traced down his arms, interlocking with his own. “You mentioned wanting to hold my hand?” Felix said tracing kisses up to his neck, finishing with a nibble at his ear.

“Oh, Fe, yes,” he whined, enamored he remembered his teasing and took it seriously, circling his thumb over Felix’s wrist. His fingers and thumb juncture were well callused, but the tops of his hands were silky smooth—a sensation Sylvain wanted to never be rid off.

Hands have been all over Sylvain, and thanks to Felix have been placed on every inch of his body, but in Sylvain's opinion no touch could beat what the simple intimacy hand holding could say. It was a luxury he typically denied himself with a partner and was about to get all romantic on Felix when he pushed him on his back, arms pinned above his head thanks to said ‘romantic’ hand hold.

“Do you _still_ like it?” He pulsed his hands, voice thick with lust. He didn’t wait for Sylvain to respond, kissing him, tracing his lip with his teeth. He moaned his affirmation against his lips.

The slender fingers let loose from his own large hands, threatening to leave. _Oh, like Cichol’s ass you will._ He squeezed tighter on Felix’s hands, but a quick forceful bite to his lip along with a sudden gasp from himself told him to knock it off.

He didn’t. In fact, he held on tighter. Felix grunted, tugging playfully against his grip. Like he’d actually be able to beat out Felix’s insane arm strength.

“Gotchu now, sexy,” he winked from below Felix, where clearly the opposite was true. He loved being under Felix’s control; the trust he gave him their first night solicited pleasure Sylvain never knew possible and now he’d provoke him just so he could wrangle him down and do it all over again.

Felix’s eyes darkened, his upper lip pulling into a scowl. Sylvain tried to resist his face morphing to show this was exactly what he wanted, uncertain of its effectiveness yet. He could sense the growl rumbling in Felix’s stomach already, preparing to hiss at him for yet another pet name, but—But! He hadn’t let go of him. “Oh, come now, Felix, that wasn’t a pet name.” He looked him down, lingering on his toned abs and said, “Sexy is just Goddess-damned fact.” Felix’s nostrils flared, a low huff coming out. Not quite the growl he was expecting, which was good—finding the correct balance with Felix was a delicate matter, but the scowl didn’t change. _Gotchu now, fucker._

Sylvain yelped—a rough thrust of hips against his erection took him by surprised. The scowl subtly lifted in the slightest of smiles. The hips moved again, faster and in rhythm. Sylvain cursed, “Oh, you fucker—“

“Sexy fucker,” Felix corrected darkly, increasing the tempo.

“—fucking. Sexy, ah-h—Felix, bastard—I’m close.”

“I know,” he said between gritted teeth, but Sylvain didn’t miss the devilish tone, the grip tightening on his hands, holding him down.

His hands. Shit. Sylvain realized he had been trying to fight _him_ off now--desperate to grab his hips, feel his ass, trace his spine up to his neck, pull him in closer so he could hear the smallest of whines Felix couldn’t hold back.

“ _Please,_ ” he whined and pushed against him with no success. Felix continued to grind their hardened cocks against each other, his eyes completely trained on Sylvain’s face. “Ah-h Goddess, could you at least—“ he paused to whine when Felix licked his nipple, “take off your pants!?”

“Sorry,” Felix said in the commanding voice Sylvain just _melted_ to. “Too busy holding my boyfriend’s hand.” His own eyes widened at the realization, Felix laughing at him knowing this had been his own damn fault. He dipped low to whisper in his ear, “Maybe you’d prefer it if I just tied you up instead?”

Oh shit, _oh_ _fuck_. **_Oh, yes_** _._

Felix tying him in place, letting him have his hands all over him in any way he wanted? Felix teasing him, over and over, until Sylvain forgets everything that isn’t Felix’s touch? Him fighting against the restraints, begging, pleading with Felix in the way he knew Felix _adored_ and aroused Sylvain just knowing how much he adored it?

He’d tell Felix to sign him the fuck up, except the singular idea had pushed him over the edge.

So rarely does an orgasm catch him by surprise, but when it does his brain lags behind so much he tends to not verbalize. His body shuddered, ears ringing as the white flash behind his eyelids pulsated. Felix continued to grind into him at top speed, either not noticing or not caring. It took him a moment, but his normally noisy boyfriend going silent must have been an alarm because Felix cautiously let go of him, “Sylvain?”

Why’d he let go of him? Why, why why? Sylvain grabbed for anything, finding hold on Felix’s shoulders, yanking him close to bite _hard_ into his shoulder, emitting a high pitch whine as his brain finally caught up to what was happening.

The moment passed and he carefully removed his mouth from Felix’s shoulder, seeing bright red marks in its place. He ran his tongue around his teeth, tasting blood.

“You okay?” Felix said with a slight anxiousness to his voice.

“Mm-h,” Sylvain pathetically replied.

Felix’s eyebrow cocked, “Seems like you liked—“

The door opened.

Oh, Sylvain always hated this. It’d happened to him enough times you’d think he’d be used to the feeling of his stomach dropping by now. The urge to run out through a window or duck under the bed hit him hard, before realizing he was in his _own_ room. _What the Flames?_

Felix, mounted atop his hips--still very erect through his pants, twisted his spine around, horror-struck along with Sylvain to see the Professor peering from the partially ajar door. Their face, for once, completely decipherable in two acts: Surprise, Discontent.

The door snapped shut before either of them could react in any meaningful way, the distinct sound of impatient foot taps on the ground behind it.

Felix bounded off Sylvain, grabbing a shirt and tossing it to him. Shit, what time was it? How’d they not hear the bell tower? He hastily put it on, and stopped when he couldn’t get the second sleeve past his broad back.

“Uh, I think this is your shirt,” he looked to his boyfriend, already buttoning the too-large shirt around himself.

“Just-ah, cover yourself,” he said quickly, tucking in the shirt and wrangling to untangle his vest. He couldn’t help but treasure this flustered Felix, the rarest of rare creatures, as he dipped his legs underneath his sheets to hide the stain on his pants.

The door opened back up, this time all the way against the wall as the Professor stood wordlessly against it, harsh eyes upon Felix still fumbling with his vest.

“Jeeze, Professor, you had us spooked. Hate to give you an unwanted show. Knock next time?” Sylvain said.

Eyes unmoving from Felix, “I did. Repeatedly.” _Oops._

Felix finally found the proper arm holes in the vest and strode out while putting it on, hardly a look behind, the Professor tracking him with their eyes until they followed him out.

“Later, babe!” Sylvain called out.

A middle finger flung into the air right before the Professor slammed his door shut.

* * *

Ingrid sitting next to him during breakfast did far more to subdue the rumor-mongers than any of the work the Blue Lions had managed in the past two days. They chatted amicably and he even waved Dimitri over to sit by them—a sort of peace offering, but he stopped to look apologetic and sat by Mercedes and Annette instead. Sylvain suspicions grew when the pair appeared wholly surprised by his sudden presence. What had Felix said to him to make him avoid him?

“I heard the Professor was sparring with Felix again last night,” Ingrid remarked, cutting off his thoughts about Felix and diverting them to…Felix.

“Really?” The boded well for him. Maybe they were lessening up on their punishments.

“Yeah, Raphael was saying they really laid it on him hard. Said they struck him down repeatedly with only one to two strikes multiple times.”

“Sheesh, think they were mad?”

“I don’t know, _you_ tell me.”

“Oh,” he said stupidly, recalling the gaze they gave to Felix as he left, “Yeah. They were mad.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes, “Figures. You know, I can help you two get out of the stupid things you do, but not much can be done if said stupid thing you’re doing is each other.”

“Who you calling stupid? I passed my great knight exam!”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “ _Barely.”_ He waved her off.

“Where is he anyways?”

“Raphael said the Professor walked him to the infirmary after they were done. I don’t know—“

“The infirmary!?” Sylvain stood up.

“Sylvain, relax, I’m sure the Professor made sure he was fine. He’s probably still—“ He didn’t hear the rest as his feet had already carried him too far away from her words.

* * *

He wasn’t in the infirmary.

But Manuela was!

But she was also passed out drunk and incapable of telling him where Felix might be. _Damn._ He sighed and tucked her in, leaving a glass of water before heading to the next logical place—his bedroom.

* * *

 _knock-knock._ _knock!_

“Yo, Felix! Open up!”

The door did not open. Instead the one to the right did as Claude peeked his head out.

“Bearer of bad news here, but your sour faced swordsman took off this morning.”

“You know when he’ll be back?”

“There are many things I wish I knew, but being privy to Felix’s schedule is, unfortunately for you, not one of them.”

Sylvain groaned, rolling his head. The action must have been extraordinarily pitiable cause Claude offered him a round of chess while he waited for Felix to possibly show. “Needed a break from reading anyhow,” he'd said.

They ended up playing two rounds. The first gave Sylvain a quick victory.

“I was a fool to underestimate you,” Claude had remarked. Sylvain told him not to worry as most people did. Claude called it a clever strategy, but the compliment only served to make him feel awkward in his own skin. He didn’t like people seeing through him typically (only exception was Felix, and more recently Mercedes), fearful of the uncontrolled ugliness they might see living inside him.

The second round dragged on longer, Claude reading him better now. Sylvain ended up needing to play more defensively than he was accustomed to, making good utilization by his one remaining knight, but ultimately Claude declared checkmate. He’d lost and to some sloppy end moves too and wasn’t shy about telling Claude as such. The Alliance heir shrugged, “Doesn’t matter the method if it gets you the victory.”

Sylvain thinks he just wanted to get back to his reading.

The bid farewell and he stepped out of his room in time to see Felix climbing up to the stair landing, holding a bag of some sort.

“Ah, there’s my sour swordsman!” He called out.

“Who you calling sour?” He grumbled back, but as he neared a faint upturn of his lips could be caught.

“Well, folks,” Claude clamored, “I do think that is my cue to go ask about this elusive library I’ve been hearing about.” He stacked up three books, dropping a heavy wink towards the two and departed. Sylvain flushed from it. Damn if Claude wasn’t charming as all of the Eternal Flames themselves. _Maybe if I’d known sooner,_ he thought wistfully.

“ _Sylvain,”_ Felix hissed. He hadn’t missed his boyfriend pining openly for the Golden Deer leader.

“Huh? Hey, been looking for you,” he smiled apologetically.

“Take off that stupid grin and come on,” he instructed, unlocking his door, entering. Sylvain followed suit, closing it behind him. “Do you have my shirt?”

“No, why would I have your shirt with me?” It totally wasn’t still in his bed, having been snuggled with all night cause it smelled like him.

“Hrmph.”

Now there was a ‘hrmph’ Sylvain had difficultly interpreting. It wasn’t quite upset per se, although there were definitely hints of it in there, and it had tones of the sassiness he was starting to get accustomed to hearing from Felix when they were alone. Combining those two didn’t result in anything Sylvain could piece together, so he asked instead.

“Disappointed?”

“Hrmph,” he muttered again, shaking his head. Bastard was definitely toying with him. “Just a shame, is all,” he mused.

“And why is that?” Sylvain flirted back, swaying up behind him, grabbing his waist. Felix elbowed him off in favor of handling the bag. He turned it out, spilling a small collection of leather straps with metal buckles onto the bed. None were big enough to be belts. In fact they looked like they were meant for—his heart skipped, “Felix?” He asked hopefully.

“You passed your exam. Buckles should be no problem for you, right?”

“Where did you even…” So many questions were flying through his head.

“Well? Think you can tell me which is an Adrestian style?” It was a jape meant to elicit something like a ‘fuck you’ out of Sylvain, but he was too busy teeming with the possibilities Felix had just deposited on his bed. He touched each one individually. Some where well worn, leather gone soft. Others felt crisp along the edges, hardened leather recently worked into the shape. A particular set had felt sewn along the edges. His fingers trailed along the soft fabric, the sensation pleasing to his touch. He imagined them around his wrist, a deep warmth swirling in his lower abdomen as his cock started to firm. 

“These ones,” he whispered to Felix, still lightly trailing his fingers around the felt.

Felix leaned his head back onto his shoulder, kissing into his jaw. “And why is that?”

“Soft,” he said, hypnotized.

“Wrong,” he nipped at his ear. Sylvain shuddered. Felix flipped around to press their chests together, an arm around his waist pulling him close. He felt frozen in place, blood pumping loudly in his ears, still unable to take his eyes off the restraints. While Felix nursed his jawline, a hand moved to squeeze his ass, a whimper emitting from this weakened form Sylvain had melted into.

Felix's hand toured around his ass, earning his lover a sharp inhale him when he momentarily dipped between his legs before continuing until Felix's hand had finally grasped his own, fingers interlocking. He squeezed hard. “The Adrestian style is known for keeping wandering parts _firmly_ in place,” he tugged on his hand. Sylvain’s eyes were finally torn away from the potentiality represented by the buckled restraint, Felix having spoke it into existence. They flicked to Felix, who was smiling that oh-so-charming grin Sylvain lived for, and involuntarily groaned from the sight. “You’re hard already, aren’t you.” Sylvain whined, barely and quickly nodding. He felt like a charged spell, ready to explode any second. Felix just had to release him. Or rather, restrain him.

Felix chose to let the spell dissolve, however, stepping away from him. Sylvain exhaled, and braced himself against the bed, feeling light-headed. Actually, sitting would be better. His legs felt too traitorous to be trusted. Felix glanced over to him, and, seeing that he was watching now, undid his hair, letting the raven color drape along his shoulders. The beauty of it held only for a moment, the slender pale fingers threading through to pull it all back up again—this time held neatly and securely; Felix’s personal signal of intimacy beginning.

He picked up a shirt from the top of his dresser, Sylvain recognized it as his own. “Since you forgot mine, I’m sure you won’t mind if I use yours,” he said holding it by the edges of each cuff, spinning it into a rope. _Oh—_ he eyed back down the the restraints, seeing the D-ring on each. He swallowed, leaning back, spreading his legs and rocked his hips gently into the air—his body yearning for his touch.

Felix strode towards him, but paused, eyes squinting with suspicion. “You’re quiet.”

Sylvain bit his lip, heat rising through his neck. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something so bad in his life; a desire that has rocked him with fear of losing it—fucking it up in some way, but also he was also nervous with anticipation. He stood on the precipice of pleasure and was looking over the edge, viewing the long fall into the waves that is Felix holding him down to have his way with him. He’d been trying to savor the nervous energy, fearful what he’d do otherwise.

His voice cracked as he spoke, the honest words leaving him softly, but he knew Felix would catch them—he had is full attention. “But you’re so good at changing that.”

Felix huffed, pleased, and collected the extra buckles into the bag, leaving the ones Sylvain picked. “Strip. And don’t be showy about it.” He did, but Felix still watched as if it were a show.“On your back.” He lied down, Felix promptly straddling him across his thighs, holding the roped up shirt threateningly. “What are you going to say if you want to stop.” _I won’t say anything, cause I’ll die before that._

“I don’t want to stop.”

“ _Sylvain. A word. To stop,”_ he said in a tone indicating there’d be no ‘to start’ without it.

“Fine. ‘Armor.’ Just don’t be shocked when I come immediately after you—you—“ his voice was already quaking— _fuck why is this so hot,_ his eyes trailed along the shirt between Felix’s hands. He was still fully dressed and it just felt _oh so_ right for him to be bare underneath him.

“Pin you down?” Felix supplied for him with wry smile. Sylvain licked his lips, mouth gone dry and nodded. “You say ‘armor,’ I stop everything I’m doing and unbuckle you and do whatever else you need, okay?”

Sylvain nodded, but he really wanted to ask _how do you know this stuff?_ He stayed quiet though, trusting Felix as always to pleasure him senselessly.

“Your hands,” Felix instructed. He lifted his arms and watched as Felix wrapped the leather around his wrists, soft felt cushioning around his skin. He pulled the buckle as tight as it could go. “Good?” Sylvain’s heart was beating so hard he thinks Felix can hear it. He let out a whimper that sounded something like a ‘yeah.’ “How’s your shoulder? Still healing?”

“It’s good,” he panted, not willing to comment how Felix may have aggravated it yesterday. “Please, Felix—I-I-I’m ready,” he stuttered. Felix grabbed his chin, holding it firm and unyielding. He said nothing, but darted his eyes around his body, trying to make some sort of decision.

“Sit up,” he finally said. Felix tied the shirt around the left restraint, hooking the makeshift rope behind his back before tugging it tight and securing it around the right restraint, his arms firmly held by his sides. Felix pushed him back down to pin the rope beneath him.

Gentle fingers traced his thighs, up through his pubic hairs and around the base of his shaft, slowly working their way up towards his head. His muscles convulsed under Felix and he reached up to touch his arm. He just wanted to caress him, well, he _tried_ to but the restraints held him in place, rope tugging underneath him.

The reality of it set in. No longer looking over the edge, he was _falling._ The spell Felix was holding, finally took way and it took a few mutterings to get there, but Sylvain _yelled._

He had warned him he’d come immediately, unable to handle how ridiculously _hot_ this all made him, but the love of his life, as Sylvain had decided right there, still managed to look shocked as he spilled out on himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Felix stays past Sylvain's curfew time and the Professor catches them in the act. 
> 
> BONUS SCENE:  
> Professor and Felix, outside Dedue's, I mean, Sylvain's door.  
> prof: why am I feeling like you’re the one I should be more worried about with these things, now?  
> fe: not my fault your knock couldn’t wake a scared hare.  
> prof: I know you heard me.  
> fe: hrmph, whatever. Don’t think anyone here has ever considered you loud, Professor  
> prof: Unlike Sylvain?  
> Fe: *blushes hard, stutters a come back*  
> prof: training grounds. One hour. Since you are incapable of holding back, neither will I.
> 
> -three justifications for Sylvain not knowing this stuff. A: see chapter 3 ‘your past lovers are shit’ B: he’s was waiting to go to a brothel until after graduation, as a present to himself C: there’s no internet. Otherwise Sylvain would be an absolute freak  
> -Yuri is the master and Felix is the apprentice. Yuri teaches his young Padawan the ways (aka, I may be outlining a Felix/Yuri prequel) [Strikethrough, Future Windy here again. Oh lordy it coming and it's going to be called 'Studied Eyes']  
> -Inside you there are two Felix’s: one who wants to lovingly take care of your boyfriend and ensure he’s not lying about his shoulder and check it again with your menial white magic. The other who wants to lovingly take care your boyfriend and fuck him immediately. Felix compromises and doesn’t not tie his arms above his head as he had imagined so they can get on with it
> 
> Meanwhile...  
> Ignatz and Raphael hear a shout from the end of the hallway, and Raphael wants to go investigate in case someone got hurt, but Ignatz—who, and let me be crystal clear, definitely fucks—is like nah, mate I’m sure they’re fine lets go get lunch


	15. Foreplay

“Shh,” Felix hushed him, holding a hand over his mouth, but even through the waves of his orgasm he could tell Felix was stifling a laugh.

“I ah-h warned you,” Sylvain panted once the short burst was over. It hadn’t been a great orgasm, if he was being completely honest with himself, too much tension and Felix’s fingertips had felt more like they’d activated a pressure valve in his balls than anything else.

“We both know you’re a liar,” Felix chided.

“Not to you.”

Felix huffed, but looked pleased.

“Cumslut,” he muttered after a short pause. Oho? Had he perchance enchanted the sword boy with his early debut? What gallantry. Sylvain licked his lips, aware he was still partially up. “How the fuck you think I’m going to clean up this mess?” Sylvain thought of several ways, all of which were excellent, but he knew the one Felix would enjoy most. His tongue tracing around his lips pushed down to part, mouth opening to Felix. Cold eyes stared back at him, waiting, so Sylvain gave a playful lick at the air to suggest Felix’s known favorite pastime: feeding Sylvain his own spent. He scowled, “I’m not licking it up, you imbecile.”

He doesn’t mean it, Sylvain knows. In fact, Sylvain thinks he knows exactly what he had implied. No, no, he intends for Sylvain to beg for it—yet, Sylvain isn’t feeling so dumbed down from want and desire anymore. No way he’s not going the time to toy with him. At least a little bit.

Maintaining eye contact, he licked the air harder, moaning as immorally as he could. He pulled sharply against his restraints, a false effort to grab Felix to pull him down to the mess and goad him further. His own dick spurred up instead. _Hey idiot,_ _remember how you think this is super hot?_ He moaned more genuinely, his efforts having far more of an affect on himself than his boyfriend, dick bobbing against his skin as it flushed fuller. A hand caught his jaw, holding his mouth open.

“Liar,” Felix smirked. The word pierced through Sylvain. It was a feeling he had trouble placing still—especially in these given circumstances—but he recognized it at least, from the times Mercedes would call him out, asking for the ‘real’ Sylvain. Except this was more intimate, both for the obvious reasons, but to also be called a liar just based off his moans? No—it was more than that. The look in Felix’s amber eyes. The intensity. The focus. The _demand._ He was demanding honestly from him, Sylvain could tell. “You _want_ to beg,” Felix sneered. And, oh, yes he did. Because Felix loves it when he begs. Goes _soft_ when he begs. _Smiles_ when he begs.

Sylvain thinks he’s blushing. “Please,” he said as much as he can, mouth held open. He can practically see Felix’s pupils blow out as he said it, his hand relaxing on his chin. “Please, Felix…” He refused to break eye contact, but can tell from his peripheral Felix had begun stroking himself through his pants. “I want you…” A low grunt-like whine came from him, his eyes glazing slightly as he watched Sylvain blush harder beneath him. Sylvain’s never said it before. It was just something Felix liked doing and he let him do it—for his smile. Asking for it made it so much more embarrassing, and—his neck burned—arousing. “Please feed me.”

His favorite smile sported Felix’s lips and he knew he’d done right.

He sucked all around the two fingers inside his mouth, the first pass of the bitter, salty taste of his spent already gone. “Is it the restraints? Or me tying you down that got you?” Felix mused while swirling his fingers inside his mouth. He couldn’t respond, so he moaned instead and watched as Felix’s eyes flashed. “No, you just like begging that much.”

_Close, but sure._

They pulled out, leaving a spindle of spit trailing from his mouth before Felix wiped them down in his chest hair. Sylvain left his mouth open as more arrived, and licked at them before they could return into his mouth.

“Yes…yes,” he whined around the fingers, licking more of the now tepid spent off him, knowing it would send Felix. And it did. Bent over, he marveled at him, his smile not once fading while Sylvain licked and slurped contentedly, the gentle tug of the roped up shirt beneath his body egging him on.

“You want to touch me that bad?” Felix teased, as a final load was delivered to him. Felix’s hips were dangerously close to where his hands laid and he just—

had—

to—

He reached up, fingers _so close_ to grazing his thighs, he whined loudly out of frustration. Felix snickered, clearly delighted by his futile display. “I guess you’ve been good,” he said, wiping the last of the spit on his chest, per usual, trailing them down towards his cock—circling, but never touching.

Sylvain nodded, “Please, Fe, yes, I’m good.” The hands continued teasing around his dick, tracing along the base, brushing between his thighs; a hungry look directed towards him. Sylvain whined louder, thrusting his hips upward in frustration, “Come on, Fe, thought you loved swords.”

The hands stopped, Felix’s expression dropping. His head inclined sideways as the fingertips brushed lightly away from his cock, along the crest of his hips leaving a tickling sensation that fluttered deep inside him, his back arching, looking towards the ceiling. When his sights returned back to Felix he cursed.

“Oh, come on, Felix, no fair!” Felix’s fingers were pulsing, as if he were spell casting, _right_ above his own hands, fingerprints almost— _almost_ touching each other, before lifting to repeat the motion. The cold expression didn’t leave Felix, his head still cocked, peering at him with lidded eyes. Smug bastard looked more _amused_ than anything.

He jerked towards him, but Felix, with his _stupid_ reflexes, moved out of the way. “ _Felix,”_ he swore through his teeth. “ _Please.”_

Felix made no move. Hadn’t he been good? Was the sword joke too much? Shit—the sword joke had been too much. Honestly, he was surprised it had worked at all in the past. He was an idiot for thinking it'd work with actual sword boy, Felix Fraldarius. Fuck.

Sylvain thrashed against himself, the shirt and restraints preventing him from doing much, making for a funny scene while Felix calmly continued pulsing his delicate, slender fingers up and down. “As soon as you let me go I’m going to—“

“What? _Hold my hand?_ How threatening, _”_ Felix sneered, fingertips tracing his _just_ barely. Sylvain jerked up again to grab him, but Felix just laughed, pulling away.

“I’m going to fucking hold the _shit_ out your fucking lithe ha—Ah-h!!” His spine stiffened into an arch as Felix’s quick reflexes had snaked up to twist at his nipples, sending a shockwave of pleasure through him.

“Behave.” The hands left as quickly as the arrived, a dark chuckle emitting from Felix. Sylvain whined, looking up to see Felix had removed himself from his breeches and drawers and was stroking himself to a steady tempo above a still, transfixed Sylvain. Naked Felix was great. Top marks. Specially on the abs. But clothed Felix, debauching himself, on top of him? With him restrained and compromised beneath? Somehow better. “Good,” Felix breathed, responding to his silence. “I want to fuck you without these,” he pointed with his chin to the restraints. “That okay?” Sylvain nodded, as if he wouldn’t do anything Felix wanted. “Good.”

_Wait._

Did he mean now? Shit. He wasn’t ready. Hadn’t been prepared. Should he have prepared before coming here? Damn Saints, he’d done so much on Thursday he didn’t think about today. Shouldn’t have slept so much yesterday, stupid brain. Felix would prepare him right? He trusted him, but—

A hand slid into his, bringing him back to reality. “Stop thinking,” Felix said compassionately as Sylvain absolutely _melted_ from the touch. He squeezed. Felix squeezed back.

“Felix,” he said, voice breaking. Tears welled at his eyes with no given warning, “I—“ _love you_.

He was cut off by Felix collapsing onto his chest, groaning wildly, with some sounding vaguely like his name, as hot cum landed on his stomach. Felix was normally never noisy like this. _Fuck_. His moaning only enhanced the absolute absence of _anything_ on his own dick.

Felix gasped for air away from his chest like he was emerging from water. He looked down, kissing him suddenly—something that felt very separate to the actual event that had just occurred, evoking feelings from their tryst near Abyss, before Ingrid had shown.

“Stand up. Now,” Felix said pulling off of him, barely recovered. He did so, and Felix spun him around, facing away from him towards the bed and undid one of the ends of the shirt from the restraint. Sylvain moved his arm, but Felix snatched it— _fucking reflexes_ —and pulled it closer to his other. “Not yet,” he scolded and secured him tighter, wrists nearly touching behind his back. He felt hard bites against his shoulder and base of his neck and couldn’t help but to smile to himself knowing Felix was likely on his cute, little tip toes just to reach. He fixed his posture, standing taller.

Felix scowled. Sylvain chuckled. Sylvain was forcibly pushed into the bed.

He was bent at the hips, chest colliding with the mattress, ass high in the sky and spread himself on his stomach, making himself more comfortable. He heard a belt hit the ground. Then the familiar sound of boots clunking with the floorboards. He didn’t dare move. Not after being pushed so forcefully down. Felix was a delicate dance, one he mastered years ago, but applying his mastery to the bedroom with Felix, or ‘sassy Felix’ as he had dubbed, he knew he had to be cautious.

A calloused hand caressed with his, sighing from the touch. “Good,” Felix mused approvingly.

Something collided with the wall in front of him, sliding down to rest on the bed. He flipped his head to see Felix’s vest and shirt, which meant—wait. The mental image of Felix in nothing but his tight breeches appeared. This Felix had a sword in his hand, skin glistening with sweat from hard practice, the mental image being a familiar one he oft had during class training. “Oh, yeah, Felix. Goddess, you’re so sexy,” he said, arching his ass upwards more.

As expected, greedy hands dug into it.

Unexpected: the tongue digging into his asshole.

“Ah-h, Saints—Felix! Give a—“ his voice rolled into something of a purr, “—guy some warning.” He could feel Felix’s eyes on him as he separated his cheeks out further, a glare he imagined conveyed ‘ _no.’_

He was more awake for this act this time around, and Sylvain flushed from every embarrassing noise leaving him, impressing even himself with his vocal range. It was the sensation that drove him wild, simultaneously being not enough and too much, causing him to squirm under his tongue. The gurgled purring-like sound replaced any semblance of a normal exhale and when Felix used his thumbs to coast along his hole, tongue entering, he fucking _mewled._

He wanted to reach down and touch himself, but the soft felt around his wrist were a constant reminder he couldn’t. Any vocalizations turned into nonsense, regardless of whether he meant to say something mean like ‘Felix, please if you could be such a kindly gentleman and rub my hardened cock repeatedly,’ or something nice like ‘Fucking fuck, fucking touch me you fucker.’

It all came out as “fah-h,” in the end.

A different strategy then. He bent his knees, moving his hips closer to the bed so he could grind against the sheets, but Felix griped around his thighs, holding him in place like a kabob to his mouth, eating liberally.

Truly, he appreciated the manhandling. Really. He did. Loving the effort. Just. Not there. Hands elsewhere, please.

 _smack!_ He flipped his head towards the sound of a hand hitting the wooden side table. Felix blindly searched around for the drawer knob, finally opening it with too much force, and fished around inside while continuing to lick and prod his entrance. A moment later he heard the familiar popping noise of a vial being uncorked, and his wish was answered. A hand cupped his balls massaging before moving up his shaft. Two unfair, blissful strokes was all he got when Felix removed his mouth and squeezed his head. “Fuck you,” he whined, loosely trying to kick him. He missed.

“Sylvain, I swear on Macuil’s Blade, you come the instant I ‘fuck you,’ as you so insist on, and you _will_ be running laps around the Monastery.”

“Don’t you dare hold that against me!” Felix finally let go of him, hands resting on his ass. “I just, really like being restrained by you, okay?”

Felix scoffed. “Obviously.” He didn’t need to see him to know he was rolling his eyes.

“What? Do you not like it?” It was a teasing question, but he second guessed himself when Felix didn’t respond. “Felix?” He tried to turn his body to look at him, but was held in place. “Is this naugh-ah—” A finger had touched his entrance and slid easily in.

“Didn’t catch that,” Felix said deadpan, fully inserting the digit, “What’d you say?”

“Do you not—do you, ah, not like-ee-ah-hh.” The finger hooked, grazing against his spot in a too-accurate-to-be-an-accident sort of way.

“One more time?” Felix said, hot and close to his ear. He didn’t even get the first syllable out when Felix slide a second finger in, evoking a deep moan from Sylvain. Felix hummed, pleased, “You open so easy for me, Sylvain.” The fingers scissored and he keened. “So nice, so good. Can’t believe you’d spread you legs open for me, of all people.” The third entered.

“Ah-h, Felix, please! Yes!” He swallowed, “Gu-uh, Goddess, I want you. Please—Fuck! Ah-h, I want you—oh, Fee-ah, I want you I want you I want,” he repeatedly rocked his hips backwards towards him as he mindlessly chanted, unsure when it had become his new moan. He pounded harder, chasing an orgasm now, wishing he could prop himself up to better the angle.

“ _Stop,”_ Felix hissed. He ceased immediately, eyes flying open, and he looked back to see Felix with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, holding the tip of his cock to calm himself. _Ha, who’s lacking stamina now._ Amber eyes slowly peeled open, blinking when he realized Sylvain was looking at him. A quick nod was shared between them.

The fingers slowly pulled out, the restraints loosened and removed. His heart warmed as Felix dotted kisses around where the felt had touched.

“I liked it too,” he muttered into his wrist, amber eyes barely catching his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sylvain came to terms with his pining for Felix during class training being a sexy kind of pining, not just a friendship kind of pining _real_ fast.  
> -Sylvain's fantasy Felix has a ponytail
> 
> I hope ya'll don't mind the shorter chapter this time and me splitting the sexcapades up. I can only write and edit so much at a time and really pride myself on being able to post at least once a week. That said, the dickmas arc wraps up this Wednesday! I have a few more chapters planned after to wrap up the story. I'll be taking these two idiots all the way up to the time skip.
> 
> Sidenote: I finished writing chp 16 last night and it left me so emotionally wrecked I had to pause and bake some pumpkin bread. So my self care tip of the chapter is remember to take breaks! Bake bread!


	16. Arrive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> =) =)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my ultimate angst and fluff and smut chapter.

“On the bed,” Felix instructed, “I want to watch you.” He let Sylvain move freely as he completely removed his breeches.

“So you _are_ the romantic type,” he teased. Felix looked over his shoulder, a coy smiled twitching his thin lips to life.

“With the right partner,” Felix said smoothly. Sylvain was in the middle of getting comfortable as Felix said this, freezing mid-butt scoot, completely slack-jaw. No eye roll? No scoff, no ‘hrmph?’ He blinked several times. Felix gets romantic for the right partner, huh? He meant him, right? Nah, he couldn’t. Unless…Wait, no, he’s been with plenty others. But they _are_ dating. Felix strode towards him, a single finger closing his mouth shut with a flick, second hand sliding behind his hair to pull him in for several long kisses.

“You doing the thing,” Sylvain said between kisses, “where you only imply your emotions?”

“No,” Felix said breathily, but without coldness. “You’re just an idiot who won’t sit his ass down.”

Oh. His trembling arms had been holding himself up still. He released himself, plopping onto the bed with a nice bounce. “Careful, princess,” Felix teased, crawling on top of him, legs straddling one thigh, their chests meeting. “Don’t want you hurting Fodlan’s finest now,” he said breathily, biting and sucking at his jawbone under his ear, Sylvain moaning with need, “-not when it’s about to bemine.” He pulled back, slamming a pillow into Sylvain’s chest with a wild smile upon his face, pushing him until Sylvain relinquished and moved to lay on his back, unable to resist the urge to match his expression.

They both chuckled, and the sweet Saint Cethleann must have loved it dearly for each noise fed back onto the other until they were both laughing loudly. Saints, when was the the last time they laughed _together?_ Felt like eons ago, before so much death. The dizzy buzz floated inside Sylvain’s mind, watching Felix giggle, hearing his voice intermingle with his that, while their voices had changed, brought back such nostalgia. For their childhoods, the good parts, before the Tragedy and home life tore them all apart. Yet here and now, Felix teasing Sylvain, calling him a freaking ‘princess?’ It was as if there’d been no gap at all. No pain, no guilt, no mourning, just the love they’ve always had for each other.

He had to tell him. He grabbed him, pulling him down for a kiss. It was awful. They were still smiling too much for their lips to meet, teeth clattering, but he didn’t care. It was perfect. “Felix, I—“

“Shut up, I’m going to—“ he made a snorting noise, going into a fit of laughter. Sylvain joined him, although didn’t know what the joke was yet. “I’m going to—ahah—I’m gonna—ehehee—“

Sylvain hit him lightly on the shoulder, “Get on with it! My face won’t stay this pretty forever!” Felix collected himself, wheezing a touch before exhaling more calmly, face serious.

“I’m going to _partake in the loving ritual_ with you, Sylvain,” he said in a false, husky voice. Sylvain’s jaw plummeted and stared incredulously at the man. No way. The deep rumble of laughter from his stomach rose out of his body. No _fucking_ way. Felix. Hugo. _Fraldarius!_ He roared with laughter.

“You did not!” Sylvain wheezed.

“I’m going to _grant you my seed_ , Sylvain. _Rest beside you in the husbandly way_ ,” Felix continued with a deep, mocking tone Sylvain used to use to tease a certain someone, while seductively humping his leg.

“No! Stop!” He was crying from laughing so hard. Felix finally broke and joined him. “I can’t believe you— _I can’t!_ Oh the Goddess.” He’d stopped himself from saying his name, thankful his laughter hid it.

Felix barely mentioned Glenn in all these years and Sylvain wasn’t going to be the one to mention the source of their previously abandoned inside joke. Glenn’s way of talking around how he and Ingrid were going to one day— _nope_. He doubled down in laughter once more, the memories when he’d used Glenn’s words to make Felix laugh, whenever he’d miss his brother, flooding him, hardly noticing Felix kissing giggles into his neck. He collected himself much quicker and more practiced than Felix had, and grabbed his face in both hands to hold their gaze at each other.

“I’m ready,” Sylvain said intensely, “Felix. Please. _Consummate my marital bed.”_ Sylvain jerked back from the amount of spittle Felix spat, the two howling in laughter once more, rolling around in the bed, tangling their limbs, until their laughter died down with soft kisses and then into moans. Sylvain never wanted it to end, but their erections were difficult to ignore after a certain point.

Felix centered himself between his legs, lifting each of Sylvain’s over his shoulders and pulling him down the bed. He hoisted Sylvain up long enough for him to place a pillow under his hips, setting him down with such timing and delicacy, he could only be teasing him. Didn’t matter. Felix was happy, and Sylvain was happy. All was good in the world.

“Hand me the oil,” Felix requested. Sylvain grabbed one from the drawer and tossed him it. Cool fingers entered him again, ensuring he was still stretched, and Felix dipped in a fourth where he hadn’t before. His body met it with some resistance, thankful Felix thought to check on him again.

“We’ll go slow,” Felix reassured him, “Let me know what you need as soon as you feel it, we can pause or even stop entirely.” He listened and nodded along while idly rocking into his fingers, using his shoulders for leverage. His body was craving more, and he gave Felix a knowing nod. The fingers were removed and Felix pressed Sylvain forward to line himself up.

He sucked in air, feeling the tip at his entrance. He was still looking at Felix and—oh, right. This was Felix. The Felix he grew up with. Skinny, hair in a bun, trains-instead-of-eats Felix. His friend. His cheeks heated, suddenly shy. Never mind all the various sex acts they’ve already done, and absolutely forget the fact Sylvain has had sex a number of times already. This felt _wholly_ different, for a number of reasons, the first surprisingly not being because there’s another dick involved.

His eyes fluttered away from Felix’s face, heart beating so hard he could feel it in every extremity. He prays Felix feels the same way, because he is so fucked sideways six times to Ailell if he doesn’t.

Felix presses in, and his eyes slide shut, breath hitching. It was a lot more than just four fingers, stretching him wider than he’s ever been. “Relax,” Felix cooed, hand stroking along his thigh. He exhaled. “Good,” he pressed further, Sylvain’s walls rippling around him, the sensitive nerves exploding from the intrusion. “Keep breathing,” Felix reminded him. He exhaled again, automatically rolling into a steady pant. Felix grunted approvingly, moaning his name. “More?” Sylvain’s breath stuttered, the idea of more sounding not so great. He was familiar with Felix’s dick by now—the shape, how it felt in his hands, his mouth, but was completely baffled by how downright humongous it currently felt pressing inside him.

“Not yet,” he panted. Felix grunted back, stifling a moan. He wanted to pay attention to Felix, really he did, it almost hurt so much how he wanted to view his face, know how he was feeling, appreciate all the little nosies he was emitting, but there was only so much stimulus his body could process. It was taking a solid chunk of willpower to just remember to breath, let alone remembering to open his eyes. Hands traced up his chest, Felix leaning his weight on him, fingers playing with his nipples. His body tense, “Ah! No! Too much!” Felix keened, but moved his hands away. “Sorry,” Sylvain mumbled, feeling guilty for some reason.

“Don’t-” Felix strained to say, “-apologize.” He didn’t respond, focusing on relaxing himself, and shutting up his demons. _Not the fucking time, assholes._ The irony, for once, lost on him. “ _Sylvain,”_ Felix said with immediacy. He opened his eyes, meeting the calming amber rings barely visibly circling the wide pupils. Felix was trembling to stay still, but mustered up a measly smile. It was sloppy and strained, and radiated a beautiful earnestness. “You okay?”

He relaxed under his smile, finding his body to be aching now, hips rocking without his permission.

“Sylva-ayn,” Felix moaned, eyes fluttering.

“Yes, more,” Sylvain finally responded, hips a mind of their own. Felix pressed on, the pain from being stretched gone, replaced with an aching need. “M-more,” he moaned, panting harder. “Mor-re, o-oh, Felix.” They both gasped as he felt the base of Felix’s pelvis hit him, balls lightly tapping against his cheeks. He held staring at him, waiting for Sylvain to prompt him yet again.

“Well don’t keep a princess waiting, Felix.” Felix smiled stupidly back at him and Sylvain wanted to believe he was trying to say ‘ _Love you, stupid,’_ with it. Maybe it was dangerous to do so, but he didn’t care—everything felt amazing right now. Felix pulled back slowly, thrusting back in with equal speed. Sylvain watched and moaned with delight when Felix’s eyes rolled back into this head before he closed them. Moaning repeatedly with each slow thrust, Felix indulged himself in Sylvain’s body; Sylvain, more than happy to be used. His moans shifted into grunts as he ramped up in speed. He tried to help, but the position was inopportune for it—legs hung over his shoulders, folding him—and not everyone could have abs of steel like Felix.

Precum dripped onto his stomach, as he moaned gently in tandem with Felix’s grunts, hands gripping and digging into the sides of Felix’s thighs. Hands returned to his chest, fingers tracing and pinching gentling on his sensitive nipples. “Ah-h fuck, no—yes-ah—mmph!” He moaned and squirmed from the added stimulation. The fingers stopped, the pounding intensified. “Oh! No—ahh-hh—Yes, plea-ah—yes, yes, mor—rrah-h!” Felix looked down at him wildly, confused. “TOUCH!” Sylvain sputtered out finally.

The fingers returned to his nipples, pinching, twisting, and flicking and _oh, yes_. If he could get Felix’s mouth on them it’d be even better, but his damn body wasn’t flexible enough to warrant Felix bending him any further. He’ll work on that later—if he could remember. His body writhed beneath Felix, surrendering all senses that weren’t Felix’s touch or thrust.

“Ah-h, yes, Sylva-ayn. So-o noisy.” He turned his head to kiss his knee, propped on his shoulder. Felix adjusted his stance, shifting _something—_

“Ah! There! Yes, yes, yes, yes—“ He whined as Felix then aimed his thrusts away. “Felix!?” He shouted accusingly. _How dare he stop?_ “Pleassse?” He panted. He felt Felix glide over his spot again with repeated thrusts, wordlessly shouting and moaning into the room, until he stopped again. “Oh-h fuck you!”

“ _I am,”_ he said with a devilish smile, biting and kissing at his calf resting beside his head. Sylvain glared at him, but Felix threw a single hearty laugh into the air from it. “Fucking Sylvain, ladies man, self-declared skirt-chaser supreme, _pouting_ for my—ahh-h—cock to hit—nhng—you _harder_ ,” he emphasized with thrusts.

“Fuck them,” Sylvain spat, “Fuck all of them, I just want _you.”_

 _“Yeah?_ You say that to all the girls you sleep with?”

“Felix, Saints— _You._ Just you. Only you. Forever,” he spoke as the emotion over took him, too powerful to ignore. The tears fell indiscriminately. “Until the end, remember?” They stared meaningfully at each other for one breath. 

“Enough,” Felix huffed, moving himself to thrust against Sylvain’s spot, reducing him to sobbing moans. It didn’t take long for him to feel close; he grabbed for his own cock that hadn’t felt neglected til this very moment, but Felix beat him to it, batting him out of the way and stilling himself inside Sylvain’s hole.

An incomprehensible string of consonants flung from Sylvain’s mouth, all sounding vaguely like swears roared by some growling animal. He stared at Felix with murderous intent.

Felix kissed his thigh, dropping the other gently to the bed, and reached to wipe the sweat-stuck hairs away from Sylvain’s forehead. “I want you like you showed me, in the tower.” He pulled out slowly, Sylvain immediately hating him for it, whining his discontent. A hand caressed his face, thumb touching along his lip to soothe him. He bit it.

“Sylvain,” he chimed, “You want to come on my cock, don’t you?” Sylvain groaned, Indech’s insight be damned, he wasn’t wrong. He scrambled onto his knees uncoordinated, but not before slamming the pillow against Felix’s head in childish frustration. That earned him a chuckle. Felix helped guide his shaky frame to face the wall—smart, he placed his forearms for leverage to push.

He wanted to hold back like Felix first had, but as soon as he entered him again, his needy body thrust downward on him, chasing after his orgasm. They both yelped. Felix leaned forward on him, letting him do all the work, grunting into his back, leaving trails of bites.

A hand slammed onto the wall, accompanied by a short muted shout of his name. It crawled until it was on top of his hand, while Felix moaned from behind. Sylvain curled his fingers around his, watching and admiring how they fit together so perfectly, head drifting towards the stone wall as he pounded himself backwards. Felix caught him with his other arm, wrapping under his chest. His hand lying right on his heart surely must have been a coincident, but wouldn’t it be nice if it weren’t?

“Felix, I—“ his toes curled, balls clenched tight, “Ah-h!” He shouted as his vision went white, his free hand shooting to the one on his heart, holding him tight. Wings seemed to sprout from his back, sailing him upwards as his back arched, Felix taking over in thrusts as Sylvain’s orgasm rocked through him. “I love you! Nnha-a! I love yo—love you, Felix—gguh-Ah-hh! I’m sorry! I love you! Ah-h, please, I’m sorry. I—“ He caught his breath, riding the waves down, “You don’t—ah—don’t have to say, ah, anything. Felix,” he finished drunkenly.

“Shh, It’s okay,” Felix muttered, still thrusting into him, “I’ve got you. I got you, I—ng!” A warm flush of energy spread inside him and Felix came. Sylvain shuddered. _So that’s how that feels,_ he thought, welcoming it.

Felix held tight as he rode out his orgasm, Sylvain squeezing him back just has hard, but he couldn’t chase away the dread crawling up his spine. He should feel great. Great sex equals a great time. So why’s he crying?

“Sylvain,” Felix panted, “You okay? What’s wrong, did I hurt you?”

“No,” he sniffed, letting go of the hand on his chest to wipe away some tears, “I just—heh—can’t believe I said that. A love confession during an orgasm? Saints, I sounded like more than half of the vapid women I’ve fucked.” He sniffled again, tears starting anew. Shit. The Goddess really had it in for him, huh?

Felix pulled out, his cum oozing out of him in a way that made him shudder. “It’s okay, I got you, Sylvain. Here,” he guided him to lie down, hoping off the bed to fetch a towel, water, and searched his clothes to pull an embroidered handkerchief, which he passed to him. Sylvain let him clean up, already working hard to detach himself.

“You know what happens next right?" he said, depressed.

“We take a nap?”

“No, after she’d confess. I’d make some viable excuse and then do something afterwards to ensure she hates my guts.” Felix looked at him blankly.

“Sylvain, I’m not,” he caught himself, but it was too late. He looked away and quieter said, “you.”

“Yeah, cause who’d want me? To be me? To be _with_ me?”

“Sylvain—“

“The actual me? I’m—“

“You’re not worthless,” Felix said louder, to cut him off. Sylvain glared at him, defensive at the fact he’d known his line of thought. “Did you mean it?”

Sylvain softened, and looked away from Felix, weight of the question hanging in the air. The silence was enough of an answer, Felix must have supposed. “Then shut up.” He curled up behind Sylvain on the bed, his back to his chest, holding him tight. “Stop apologizing. You’re not worthless. You make me laugh and-” he nuzzled into his shoulder, muting his words, cause if Felix can’t hear himself say it, it means he didn’t have to go through the trauma of saying it, as Sylvain had learned long ago. “-I haven’t joked about Glenn in—I barely even talk about him.”

“I know, I’m—“ he stopped himself, trying to parse out something else to say, “I’m glad I make you laugh. You deserve to laugh.”

“So do you. The real you…I’ve got you,” He squeezed him harder. Sylvain squeezed back.

“Hey, Fe?”

“Hrm?”

“You doing the thing where you only imply your emotions?”

A long pause.

Barely audible, lips moved against his back, “Yes.”

Sylvain smiled. It was the dumb uneven smile his mother had trained out of him years ago. He smiled it nonetheless.

He was loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Princess Sylvain pushes the Dread Pirate Kyphon down the hillside, and as he tumbled downwards, the long unheard words echoed into the air, “I’ve got you!” Princess Sylvain gasps, realizing the Dread Pirate Kyphon had been his love all along. “Oh, my sweet Felix, what a fool I’ve been,” and he tumbles down after him.
> 
> I cried after editing this. Bless this ship.
> 
> Make sure you feel the sun on your skin every now and then. Vitamin D deficiency is no joke.


	17. Waking up, you in my arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain words are not said. 
> 
> More promises are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh baby we back! I debated splitting this chapter in two but then I was like aw hell ya'll deserve it. 
> 
> If you have't seen it yet, check out the very silly For your Smile rendition of "I won't say (I'm in Love)" I wrote staring Felix and Yuri. Inspired by your comments!! It makes for a good appetizer for this chapter. You can find it under this story series that I've titled "Carried me with You." Or you can click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424948)
> 
> A Disney themed playlist for this fic may or may not be coming as well :look:
> 
> Enjoy!

Sylvain didn’t want to wake up any other way ever again. Felix’s head rested on his chest, hand on his heart, with their legs wrapped around another. He had an arm around Felix’s back, feeling his slow breath fill and expand his ribs, and fall evenly. A fingernail was softy circling around his chest, indicating Felix was awake, but more importantly, was just as content with the way things were as he was.

Sylvain opened his eyes, but didn’t move, not wishing to alert Felix he had awakened. The sun was still up, but the shadows in the room indicated some amount of time had passed since he’d fallen asleep in Felix’s arms post-sex. He smiled. It had been amazing and beautiful and _so fucking hot_ and sloppy with emotions neither of them could have ever planned for.

Everything.

It had been everything.

No wonder he’d confessed. He knew Felix would have difficulty saying the words aloud back to him. But he would show it, he knew.

After the Tragedy, Felix had adopted an avoidance for any and all expressions of emotions save for anger. Sylvain had made sure to give him the space he needed but worked faster than Ingrid to understand the way Felix operated in a world without Glenn. It wasn’t so much as Felix was _only_ angry now, it was that everything had a _layer_ of anger around it. If you could manage to tolerate his anger for long enough you’d know it was never, ever anger he felt. ‘ _Hrmph,’_ didn’t mean “fuck off,” ‘ _hrmph_ ,’ meant “fuck off, you’re making me _feel_ things.”

Sylvain had already experienced years tolerating hatred toward him before the Tragedy had wrecked their lives. From Miklan, obviously, but from his parents too. They claimed to have done many things to him out of love over the years of his terrible childhood, but he knew better. He knew what he was to them, to his father.

His parents said they loved him, Felix will show he does. At least, he thinks so.

A finger continued to circle around his chest. He can feel Felix nuzzle slightly into him, followed by a gentle, but long sigh. Sylvain, lost in thought, resisted squeezing him tighter, fearful he’d break the spell that was the relaxed, doting Felix resting on his chest.

Sylvain recalibrated having observed this Felix. A Felix that is not the innocent, trailing crybaby of his youth or the cold, hardened nonstop-training asshole of his adolescence. This is a Felix relaxed in his arms, softened around all the edges both physical and not. This is a Felix with his love. _I did this. Me._

So, no. He _knows_ Felix will show he loves him back.

If this meant Felix needed to take his time to say it, that was fine. He’d gotten the reassurance he needed for the time being. Felix could spend the next twenty years with him, not once saying it and Sylvain would feel loved so long as they woke up like this every morning. Every morning, Felix on his chest. Every morning his arm around someone he loved. Every morning, Felix showing he was here to stay. And not for his Crest, or his status, or his good looks… _okay, maybe partially for his good looks._ No, Felix was here because he _loved_ him.

He was looking forward to breaking the news to his father. Maybe he’d miraculously find a third son and finally leave him be.

His eyes tracked down to the top of Felix’s hair; a previously tight bun now flopping sideways off his head, raven strands of hair mingling with his auburn, freckled chest. He watched as Felix lovingly continued to circle a fingernail on his chest, realizing now he was in fact tracing an outline around one of his older scars. One of the few he had because Gautier hadn’t had any healers available at the time. One that had, thanks to puberty, been mostly hidden by his chest hair. One that only Felix knew was there because he’d been present to have seen what caused it.

One he still had nightmares about.

Sylvain, 0; old wooden bucket, 1; Miklan, too high to count.

He breathed in deeper. Least that count wouldn’t ever get higher. Miklan was dead. Although, his dreams were often unaware of the fact. He struggled to get through a month without falling down that stupid well again. He shuddered.

Felix, sensing him stir, stopped tracing the scar, and looked up at him with his softened eyes, a gentle blush to his cheeks. Was he always going to be the gorgeous after sex? Sylvain needed to know. Needed to test that idea more. But later. For now, he would enjoy this.

Felix reached up, touching their lips together lightly, both men humming in satisfaction. Sylvain hugged him tightly, wrapping his second arm around Felix’s head, breathing in his scent. It was perfect. Calming to all his senses.

“You slept well,” Felix said muffled in his arms.

“I did?”

“No nightmares.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. That Felix knew him well enough that he often had nightmares when he slept, or to that he hadn’t had one with Felix next to him.

He knew it wasn’t because of the sex. He wished _desperately_ sex would force him to pass out hard enough he wouldn’t dream, but it never worked completely. He’d once spooked off a girl from the bizarre sleep talking he’s sometimes prone to do and then there was the time he had thrashed around so hard he accidentally elbowed a girl that made him feel bad enough he vowed to never spend a night again.

It wasn’t like he had nightmares every time he slept, but Felix’s tone made it seem like he was pleased about it or something. Sylvain didn’t have the heart to tell him they’d be back, so in the twist of the century Sylvain was the one who muttered, “Hrmph.”

“Did you—“ Felix turned his head, shyly, to look at him, “—was it good?” Okay, he knew Felix wouldn’t be a master at interpreting his ‘hrmph’ like Sylvan was at his, but come on! He wasn’t even trying to hide anything. And for him to think it was about the sex. _The Goddess does like her semblances of balance in the world I suppose._

“ _‘Was it good,’”_ Sylvain mocked. “Felix Fraldarius do you even have ears? Tch’yeah it was good. If I recall correctly, you had promised to give me the most intense orgasm of my life. You have yet to fail on that delivery, m’Lord.” Sylvain finished with a teasing kiss to his forehead.

“I didn’t promise you. We made a bet.”

“Same difference—“

“No it’s not,” Felix scolded.

“Well then, make it a promise now. I know you’re good for them,” he winked.

“Tch, I’m not—“ Felix sat up, turning his head away in slight embarrassment. Sylvain passed the time needed for Felix to gather his thoughts by kissing his bare shoulder. The sounds of lips pressing against skin filled the silent room while Felix ruminated. “I’m not always going to be able to blow your mind,” he finally said, looking away.

“I doubt it.” He had a sparkling, perfect record so far.

“Sylvain,” he groaned. Like a fine wine paired beautifully with an aged cheese, it was funny how his father had been able to pick out the perfect name to go with the rolling of eyes. Happened often enough he could hear it without needing to look. He pulled back from dusting kisses on his shoulder to look at Felix who was sporting a look of concern.

“Okay, so what?” Sylvain dismissed him.

“ _‘So what?’_ So, I can’t make that promise to you. I’m not some—uhn…” he shrugged, waving his hands about, “sex god, or whatever.”

“Mm, sex god? No.” Sylvain returned to his shoulder, biting gently. “You’re sex Felix. Sexy Felix.” He trailed his kisses along his collar bone, delighting in the soft sighs Felix let out as he gently nipped along the bone. “Sassy, sexy, swordboy, Felix.” He bit down harder on his collarbone so Felix wouldn’t have time to protest the hidden nickname Sylvain had for him. His dick twinged from the moan Felix gave, but his bottom protested, soreness championing out any interest in another round in the end. Felix grabbed his chin, lifting him off his body to become lost inside his amber eyes—now blown wide.

“You really not satisfied yet?” It was not an accusation. With the tone Felix was using it was definitely a proposition. Sylvain’s body simultaneously cheered and revolted.

“Oh, I’m perfectly satisfied.” Felix raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Trust me, my body is letting me _know that_ right now. I just like making you moan.” Felix let go of his chin, and Sylvain rested his head in the crook of his neck.

“I did _not_ make you sore.”

“Mm, you so did.”

“You don’t need to stroke my ego, Sylvain.”

“Mm, I’m not.”

A beat.

“You’re hopeless,” Felix said with a light chuckle.

“Ah-what?”

“You heard me.”

“How am I—“ _Wait._ “—are you sayin’ you were holding back!?”

“ _‘No need to be shy, I would never be so harsh with something so delicate and beautiful like you,’_ ” Felix spouted out words Sylvain had used a many time trying to bed various girls (to very little success). Felix smiled and patted him on the cheek. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

“How dare you mock me after taking my virginity. See if I ever let you take me out to dinner again.” Sylvain gathered the sheets around his chest in a teasing huff, and looked away from Felix, trying his best to appear pouting.

“Seeing as how those dinners usually involved you trying to set us both up with girls, I take that as a victory.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair. I didn’t know at the time!”

“It’s not like I said ‘I’m not interested,’ a hundred times or—"

“No, I meant me. I didn’t know I could…be interested in, erm-” he faltered as Felix was now eyeing him with much scrutiny, “-guys,” he finished weakly. Felix sighed as he finished speaking, something unreadable passing through his amber eyes. It made Sylvan feel uncomfortable, not being able to read him. He could always read him. He could always read nearly everyone! What the hell kind of look is that then? He prepared for the worst, because that’s usually how it was and felt himself shrinking. He mentally prepared for Felix to scold him for being such an idiot, but then Felix grabbed him by the neck and pulled him close. Their lips touched, with Felix continuing to press him in closer, deepening their kiss until Sylvain moaned.

“Fine,” Felix muttered against his lips, tickling them, “I’ll take you out for dinner.”

Sylvain pulled back, surprised. “Wait, why—”

“Do you want to or not, Sylvain?” He said, slightly annoyed.

“Yes!” He settled back into his boyfriend, this time pulling him into a hug. _He will show it._ More somberly, “Yes, Felix, please.”

“Good.” Sylvain shifted back down to the bed, tugging gently for Felix to join him. They laid facing each other.

“Hey, Fe, think you could promise me something else then?”

“Besides dinner?”

“No, besides always blowing my mind with your sex goddess powers. Which, for the record, you have and will continue to do regardless of what you think.” He chose to take Felix’s silence as a positive and definitely not as the cold seething annoyance he was clearly projecting. “Could—“ The same emotion he had that had spilled out so suddenly during his orgasm rushed back to him, overwhelming all else. Looking into Felix’s eyes was too much. His gaze was sharp and probing. Like he was trying to deconstruct every aspect inside him, reveal every dark corner, every pit of despair, every disgusting part of him that made him, him. “Do you think—“ The worst part was that Sylvain _wanted_ him to. And he trusted Felix to be the only one to do it and it _terrified_ him, knowing what he’d find. He didn’t want to see the look on his face when he would. “I—“ He looked away. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Save them both the embarrassment. Felix deserved better certainly. Someone nicer, who trains more, and didn’t go on depressed sex and alcohol binges. Had he not known Ashe was into him, he’d say Caspar.

A cool hand touched his cheek. “Stop thinking so much. You can tell me anything. I—I want you to tell me anything.” Sylvain looked back at him, where all the harsh lines of Felix’s face had been erased away. Sylvain had only seen portraits, but he undoubtedly took after his mother in this moment. He recalled the young boy who would cry in his arms when Dimitri had to leave for the capitol, the boy who trailed after him laughing at his every joke, the boy who helped him out from the well.

“Will you promise I’ll be yours? Forever? Maybe that’s stupid seeing as how young we are but, I don’t know, I just want to be yours, Felix. And I hope you can accept whatever…demons I have with me. I know they’re ugly, I’m ugly. I’m stupid and I get in these stupid mind places that you always seem to be able to help me out of even though it’s a huge hassle and I just hope—man, I’m not really selling this promise, am I?” He watched as Felix exhaled softly. Rare wrinkles formed around his eyes as his lips upturned in a close mouth smile. He leaned forwarded and kissed him on the forehead.

“I promise.”

“That was…” Sylvain warmed, “…quicker than I expected, I’ll be honest. Thought you would, I don’t know, say something like—“ His thoughts got distracted by Felix’s touch which had gone back to tracing the scar on his chest. “—why you gotta keep touching that?” Sylvain said annoyed. He brushed Felix’s hand away, rubbing at the spot. He preferred to let the scar and the memory fade.

“Sorry,” Felix muttered.

“You gotta thing for scars along with body hair?”

“No, I—you—we were young, and I didn’t know any better, but I had thought you were going to die. I see the scar and I’m glad you didn’t. There. I’m sorry I touched it.” Between the rose colored cheeks and single word sentence, Sylvain knows Felix is embarrassed. The why, however, eluded him. _Although, he did mention something earlier…_

Sylvain smiled shakily, “Heh, it was a nasty piece of wood that lodged itself into me, wasn’t it? Hell of a fall too…” The Duke had arrived a day early to leave Felix to train with a border Capitan in Gautier territory for a month while he’d be in the capitol. Sylvain and Miklan were supposedly hunting, when his brother had shoved him down the old well. Sylvain gashed his head, broke his arm and ankle, and had landed face first onto an old, rotting wooden bucket. It smashed into pieces on impact, many of which lodged into his body. The largest had pierced through his chest and into a lung.

Felix had run out to try and find Sylvain when they’d arrived and by luck came across him moaning and coughing blood from the bottom of the well. Through rope and smarts, he’d managed to lift him out of there and drag him back. Despite what he’d told him, Felix had refused to leave him.

“You…" Felix said cautiously. "I don’t think I’ve seen you that hurt since. Even after Remire.”

Sylvain winced. The Death Knight had gotten in a nasty hit against him. Mercedes had quickly patched him up, but he’d still been out for a week after. Definitely hadn’t compared to trying to heal a punctured lung without magic.

“You know, I’m curious. What exactly about a twelve inch piece of jagged wood sticking out of my chest made you go ‘ah, yes, that Sylvain. I would indeed most like to hump that.’”

Felix’s eyes went wide. “It’s wasn’t like that!” Then he muttered, so softly he must have thought Sylvain couldn’t hear him, “Thought you’d forget I’d said that.”

“I would never forget such a confession, Felix.”

‘ _Ten,’_ Felix had said. That was when he knew he liked Sylvain. _Ten years old, and I was twelve. We spent a month together, which started with you finding me at the bottom of a well and ended with you crying because father forced you to spar with me while I was still injured._

Felix huffed and glared at him, but Sylvain didn’t back down. He could stare all day long at Felix. Sucker was stuck with him permanently now. He’d promised. Felix must have been thinking the same thing because he rolled his eyes and started talking.

“Ingrid was already great at riding, Dimitri with his lance, and Glenn…You were always so good at making people laugh. Me especially. I had, at the time, felt like I wasn’t great at anything. Then I heard you crying for help and I helped you out and when your bastard of a father refused to call back mine, I stayed by your side until you woke.”

Huh, Sylvain hadn't known his dad had refused to seek out the Duke’s aid. It would have made sense to do so, him being so close after leaving Felix in Gautier and heading to the capitol. _Bastard! He must have only been hours away!_ He vaguely remembers his dad saying something about his body being ‘strong’ enough, but now that he thinks about it he probably didn’t want Gautier to appear weak to Fraldarius. Yet another thing to add to the long list of shitty things the Margrave has done to him in the name of their House. The doctor had patched him up as best she could, but it’d been three days before a Gautier healer got to him.

“You were having nightmares, so I read to you and then you…stopped.” Felix rolled to be on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “And I thought—I thought that’s what I could be great at.”

Sylvain furled his eyebrows, “At what? Watching me sleep? Not that I mind. It’s kind of cute.”

“Idiot,” Felix facepalmed. Sylvain wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or himself. “At calming you. Making _you_ feel safe—“ _Ah._ It’d been directed at him. “—And once I thought that, I realized several things.” Sylvain sat up to look at Felix, who refused to look at him. Typical Felix. Can’t express all these emotions without imagining he’s in a room alone.

“Fe—“ Sylvain felt his breath leaving him for all the best reasons. Sylvain placed a hand over Felix’s heart, and was pleasantly surprised when Felix joined his on top.

“We’re both second sons. I had gotten all these stupid ideas and thoughts in my head. I didn’t expect you father to disown him or for…”

“I know,” Sylvain said softly. While he’d always known he'd take up the mantle of Margrave over his brother, Felix hadn’t once anticipated he’d be Duke someday. He wondered if things would have been different had Sylvain known Felix had liked him back then. Would he have realized he’d liked him too? Maybe if he had he would have actually followed through with his plan to run away. The two of them living happily together somewhere off in the countryside. Maybe there was still time…

“I didn’t know you did that,” Sylvain said, “Read to me, stayed by my side. I…really only remember the fall and being stuck and the pain…” Felix sat up to bring him into an embrace. “Thank you, Felix. You really are the greatest at it, you know.” Felix responded only by tightening his embrace, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him in.

The tender moment was abruptly ruined by Sylvain’s growling stomach. They had skipped lunch and Sylvain guessed it was close enough now to be on the early side of dinner.

“Come on, let’s eat.” Felix said with a tone that indicated a sense of finality to the conversation. He stood to get dressed and Sylvain allowed himself to admire for a moment before joining.

* * *

Felix unceremoniously deposited a tray of food in front of him. “Here. Eat this.” It appeared to be some sort of stew with potatoes and rice. It smelled good but…

“This so does not count as taking me out to dinner, you know. I am a princess and deserve to be treated as such by my boyfriend,” Sylvain said, giving his best Hilda impersonation. Felix returned his spot on impression with a thousand yard stare. _That’s right fuck-o, think you can shame me with names? Behold, my revenge._

“Eat,” Felix hissed. Sylvain laughed in victory.

“Regretting that promise yet?” Sylvain ripped off a piece a bread to dunk into the stew.

“I’ve been dealing with you and your antics my whole life. I think I’ll manage.”

“And if you don’t? I’ve been told I’m quite the _handful_ ,” he winked, motioning his wrists in a way reminiscent of being tied up. Across from him, Felix paused, spoon more than halfway to his mouth, and flicked his gaze to Sylvain, lowering his spoon in pause.

“Thought you said you were satisfied.” It was meant to be a jab, but his tone betrayed him. Sylvain was starting to think anytime Felix accused him of being insatiable was less of a statement about him and more of a statement about himself. Ah, perhaps this was his way of knowing his flirtations were getting through that cold, angry exterior. Sylvain bit his lip in excitement.

“What can I say. I’m a flirt. There’s no stopping me. Unless you think you can force me to?” Sylvain saw a slight tweak of his eye. “Hah, I bet you do, don’t you.” Felix, unamused and completely accustomed with Sylvain’s typical flirting returned to his meal. Sylvain wasn’t a quitter though. He was going to get a reaction out of his boyfriend. “What say you, we spar for a bit, see if you can make me shut up.” Felix spared a quick look to him in between bites. Oh, yes, he was interested now.

“Eat your food. We’re in public.” Sylvain obeyed, taking a bite of the bread that had sopped up the broth and kept talking.

“You know if you used a lance I bet I could beat you.”

“I swear to Serios, if you’re going to make a ‘lance’ joke I will—“

“Felix!" he said, falsely aghast. "I would never disgrace Faerghus’s cultural weapon in such a crude way. Now, _swords_ on the other hand— _hey!_ ” Felix had kicked him under the table. “I was just going to say I don’t mind helping you maintain your— _ouch!_ ” This time he slammed on his foot. “Oh, what, you don’t want to cross blades with me any—“ Cutlery clattered to Felix’s tray as he aggressively inched closer to the table. For a split second Sylvain thought he'd would be all bark and no bite, but then he felt a pressure right on top of his crotch. “—mor—ah-h…” All the air sucked out of his lungs. Felix smirked and pressed his foot every so slightly harder on his now growing erection.

“Felix, we’re in public,” he tried teasing, but all the playfulness had left him. He shuddered, mouth gone dry.

“Looks like we won’t need that spar after all," Felix smirked. "Shame. Eat.”

Sylvain swallowed deeply as Felix removed his foot, choosing to drape it over his thigh. He placed his hand over it, pushing the hem of his breeches up to hold onto the skin of his ankle. The two smiled warmly at each other (well, Sylvain smiled. For Felix it was more so the lack of a scowl) as they ate, Sylvain affectionately thumbing circles into Felix’s ankle, hidden under the table.

They had arrived early for dinner, technically, and by the time they were finishing up, most of the crowd was starting to make their way in.

“You never really answered my question, now that I think about it.”

“I take my promises seriously, Sylvain.”

“Good to hear it, but I was actually referring to the excessively large bag of restraints you just-” Sylvain gestured around wildly, “-procured.”

“They’re from a friend,” Felix said without skipping a beat. Sylvain blinked. That felt too rehearsed. 

“A friend,” Sylvain said in disbelief.

“Hmm,” Felix agreed.

“Have I just been hanging out with the wrong people this whole time?”

“You hang out with me. I had them. So obviously not.”

“That’s not what I meant. Where’d you get them from and how did you learn that stuff.”

Felix huffed. “Never thought you to be the one lacking in the creativity department.”

“Uh, you know that’s not true. But even I know some of that stuff had to have come from learned knowledge. Was it a book? Claude once lent me this good one—“

“Wasn’t a book.”

“Then what?”

“Would you drop it? I’m not telling you here,” Felix hissed. Sylvain knows a stopping point when he hears one, but he can’t help himself. He has declared his love for him so obviously he was now freaking out Felix would leave him for someone else any second now.

“Was it from one of your previous ‘fifth day of training’ lovers?”

 _“Sylvain,”_ Felix warned. Sylvain ignored him, the sound of Felix’s laughter and a purple-haired man filling his mind instead.

“Was it Yuri?”

“Hrmph.” _He’s annoyed obviously, but there’s also pity in there._

Felix removed his leg from its resting spot atop Sylvain’s thigh and sat up taller. His eyes trailed down to Sylvain’s chest in a way that was familiar. Felix never could look him head on when he was annoyed, always choosing to look at his chest instead. And while, yes, he was very much so currently annoyed with him, the specific location on his chest he was looking at surely wasn’t a coincident. He was definitely looking at the spot where the wood had been. A spot that after all the words Felix had spoken to him held new meaning.

“The promise goes both ways, Sylvain,” Felix said.

_I’ll be yours._

“Right,” he smiled, tugging at hair in the back of his head. “Of course. Ah, all things aside, I wouldn’t actually mind sparring a bit,” Sylvain said, changing the topic. He believed he was right on the edge of pushing Felix too far. Best to back off and distract him with his favorite thing. “I’d like to see how long I can last against you with my off hand.”

“You wouldn’t last ten seconds,” Felix challenged. Sylvain didn’t miss the excitement in his voice, which meant he’d successfully distracted Felix away from his _pesky emotions,_ and ergo wouldn’t storm away from him.

“Ah, you are so sweet to me, Felix. I was giving myself five.”

“Are you two thinking of sparring later?” They both looked up to see Dimitri, arriving with a tray of his own. Dedue trailed not far behind him, as always, but was held back by an eager Ashe talking his ear off. “Might I join? I would certainly appreciate getting more training in before the mission this Saturday.”

“No one ask you, boar,” Felix spat with more venom than the usual.

“Whoa, hey, Felix. His Highness can join us if he wants to.” He was the fucking Prince of Faerghus. Like they could stop him.

Felix, however, ignored him. “You broke more than half the lances just _in the past week_.”

“Ahaha,” Dimitri laughed in a sickeningly charming way, “I have already apologized to the grounds’ Capitan and put in the time to repair them, Felix.”

“Those were _steel_ lances.” Okay, that caught Sylvain’s attention. He’d thought Felix was going on about some wooden training lances. Which, duh, even Sylvain has busted through many of those. But steel? How does one even go about _breaking_ steel lances? Dulling, yes. Chipping even, sure. But, breaking?

“Whoa, you doing okay, Dimitri?” Sylvain asked. They all dealt with their grief in different ways, but he never really took Dimitri to be the one to take it out in battle. That was Felix’s thing.

Sylvain got depressed.

Ingrid hid away for a year.

Dimitri…

Actually Dimitri seemed to be the one who took it the best. Which is shocking considering…

“I assure you, I am perfectly—“

“ _Look at you,”_ Felix hissed, a look of absolute abhorrence on his face. “You’re practically frothing at the mouth. A raging animal in human skin. Someone better cage you soon before you—“ Felix was going red in the face.

“What the _hell_ , man?” Sylvain directed at his boyfriend. Even with how familiar Sylvain could be, he’d never talk to the _Heir Apparent, King of Faerghus_ like that.

“—go feral killing everything in sight. Don’t think I won’t stop you.”

“I have already made my case to you, Felix,” Dimitri said diplomatically. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

“Is that a _threat?_ ” Felix spat. Sylvain suddenly wished he was on the opposite side of the table, just so he could pull Felix back from _whatever the hell was happening right now._

“Felix.” Dedue’s deep voice and large presence made itself known. He stood side-by-side with Dimitri, looking down upon Felix. Ashe, in the background, had stilled, watching with caution as to what would happen next.

With a mean scowl upon his face, Felix stared down Dedue, a silent argument being had between the two.

Felix broke first.

“Sylvain,” he said sharply, looking at Dimitri. “We’re leaving.” He turned, leaving his tray on the table, already heading towards the exit. Sylvain watched, uncertain what to do. Felix had left him in an awkward position.

“Erm, sorry your Highness, he’s uhm,” _in a mood today? That’s not true. We were having an amazing time together until Dimitri showed himself._ He recalled Felix’s sour mood after the encounter the three on them had along had with Ingrid. _What had Dimitri said to have upset him this bad?_

“It’s perfectly fine, Sylvain. I am used to Felix’s brusqueness towards me,” Dimitri responded.

At the end of the hall, Felix turned to see Sylvain hadn’t followed him yet. “Sylvain!”

“Please, do not let me ruin your free day together,” Dimitri said, taking a seat.

“Right,” Sylvain collected both his and Felix’s used trays and dishes. “See you all tomorrow!” He smiled as if nothing was wrong and turned to follow Felix who, having seen Sylvain was now following, had turned back to exit. Immediately Sylvain dropped his smile. _What the hell crawled up him and died?_

He had to run to catch up to Felix, who was now halfway to the training grounds because where else would he be heading? He didn’t even bother to acknowledge him as he caught up, further pissing Sylvain off.

From behind, he grabbed Felix’s shoulder and yanked him around.

“What the _hell_ was that!?” He shouted as he turned him. He immediately regretted it upon seeing Felix's face, however, his own going soft. Felix was no longer all bite and venom as he had been in front of Dimitri. Sure, his lips were twisted and brows furled in rage, but Sylvain could see past those easily. He’d seen it many times in both Miklan and himself. _It’s all in the eyes._

Felix was afraid.

“Let go of me,” he hissed, rolling his shoulder to push Sylvain hand off. Felix may be fast, but Sylvain’s always been stronger. He slid his had down and grabbed his elbow instead, giving a firm tug to let him know Sylvain wouldn’t accept him heading off without addressing this. Once he felt Felix wouldn’t fight him, he relaxed his grip, but held on.

Controlling his voice as much as he could, giving it all the softness Felix deserved, he said, “I know you haven’t seen eye to eye with him since we got here, but that was something else, Felix. What happened between you two?” Sylvain tried to lock eyes with him, but Felix's gaze kept searching around. He pushed off his grip again, and this time Sylvain allowed him, knowing he wasn’t going to walk off. “I’m not exactly fond of apologizing to the future King of Faerghus on behalf of my boyfriend, you know.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

“No, you didn’t. You just stood up and commanded me like a dog to follow you. Something I also don’t appreciate.” If Felix wasn’t avoiding his gaze before, he definitely was now. He watched Felix breathing heavily, bouncing his heel on the ground and waited. For all he loved to talk and joke, he knew how to make a point of seriousness by staying quiet and letting the air hang.

He calmly waited, ignoring the students who gawked at them passing by. He saw Ingrid look at them with a concerned curiosity and passed her a curt look to leave them alone. Thankfully she did.

“Please,” Felix said so softly he almost missed it. It wasn’t a word Felix used lightly either. Sylvain had been expecting an apology, not pleading and was further confused when Felix finally looked at him, eyes tinged with red as if he was holding back tears. “Promise you’ll stay away from him.”

“Felix, I don’t understand.”

In a surprising act of affection, Felix grabbed Sylvain by the sides of his face and brought his forehead to his own, closing the space between them. Their noses touched and Sylvain instinctually matched his breathing to his.

“Just promise me,” Felix whispered, his voice shaking.

“I want to, Fe. I really do,” he whispered back. “But you need to give me something here. Give me a why.” The hands holding his face tightened, thumbs caressing his stubble at an anxious pace.

“He’s off. Ever since Remire he’s been getting worse. He’s going to snap soon, Sylvain. _You need to stay away._ ”

“Dimitri wouldn’t—“

“Not Dimitri. _The Boar._ I’ve seen it, Sylvain. I can’t…I can’t lose you too. _”_ Sylvain blinked a few times trying to process what Felix was saying. There’s no doubt Felix truly believed what he was saying, but Sylvain just couldn’t imagine Dimitri harming either of them.

He silently wiped away a tear from Felix’s face, feigning it as a caress; Felix doesn't cry.

He sighed. It didn't really matter what Sylvain thought, did it? He wonders if this was how scared Felix had been when he found him at the bottom of the well.

“Okay, Felix. I promise.” Upon hearing his words Felix’s body viscerally relaxed to a point Sylvain thought he was going to have to hold him up.

With a sniff, Felix pushed him back, bouncing back to the world outside of the two of them. Sylvain was impressed and slightly concerned at how quickly Felix had compartmentalized all that had just occurred, but he guessed he couldn’t be one to judge seeing as how he was doing the exact same thing.

“Come on, then," Felix said, setting his jaw. "Let’s see if you can get to ten seconds with that terrible off hand of yours.”

“You using a lance?”

“Sure.”

“You’re on.”

Felix refused to let him leave until Syvlain bested him. It was a long night.

Dimitri never joined them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile...  
> -Ashe speaks with Dedue about what dishes he thinks would be a suitable first date to make together. You know, hypothetically.  
> -Dedue "not my circus, not my monkeys" Molinaro, gives great suggestions. Hypothetically.  
> -Ingrid gets to dinner late, says she thinks she saw Sylvain and Felix fighting and wonders if they know anything  
> -Dimitri says he hasn't seen them all day  
> -Ashe [insert nervous gif here] Ubert  
> -Byleth has spent the whole month masterfully dodging Rhea btw  
> -Rhea finally sends Seteth instead
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoyed! We getting into some deep emotions with these two now.
> 
> Here in the US, capitalism day is coming up so be sure to celebrate and TREAT YO'SELF in the upcoming week.


	18. What the Future Holds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Professor brings news of their next mission to accompany them into the Holy Tomb for their revelation. With the year soon ending, Felix attempts to have a discussion with Sylvain as to what the future will hold for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, we back baby. And with an extended chapter too! 
> 
> I'm still in the process of moving (it sucks) but I've had enough downtime to work on this. Lots of plot set up for the ending here, but I couldn't resist adding in one more sex scene. I've about a quarter of chapter 19 finished and the finale extensively outlined. Should (fingers crossed) be on a weekly schedule, posting on Mondays, for the next two weeks =) =) 
> 
> Check my twitter @fearlesswindy1 for more accurate updates!

Professor Manuela was too hung over to care that Felix and Sylvain had entered class late, but both students slunk to their seats as covertly as they could regardless. Sylvan had been wholly prepared to accept the reparations from Professor Byleth (despite both Felix and Sylvain’s tongues being equally desperate for each other in their morning make-out session) for their late arrival, but nonetheless thankful for her unusual absence, albeit a tad confused. They each took their seats, separated from one another, while Manuela angrily mumbled through anatomy and basic healing spells.

“Hey Ashe,” Sylvain whispered. Ashe shifted in his seat so Sylvain knew he had heard him, but his focus remained downward. “Where’s our professor?”

“Meeting with the Archbishop,” Ashe responded quietly and quickly from the side of his mouth, while still taking notes. Sylvain leaned over to check and see what he was writing, deciding if this lecture was worth paying attention to or not, and chuffed. Goddess did Ashe blow them all out of the water in terms of discreteness. He never would have guessed just looking at him.

Ashe’s notes were a shopping list, and now he was actively doodling various knight helms. No notes on Manuela’s drabbling whatsoever. 

Heh. Alright then. If neither of them were going to pay attention today then Sylvain could get an update out of him.

“So how’s Caspar?” Sylvain asked, waggling his eyebrows. The pen in Ashe’s hand stilled and he shifted to rest his head in his hand, hiding his (likely blushing) face from Sylvain. On the page, however, in his sloppy print the word ‘ _great!’_ appeared. 

And here Sylvain thought he’d been subtle in looking at his notes. Cleary Ashe had caught him and was now using it to their advantage. 

“Com’on buddy, you gotta give me the details,” Sylvain whispered. 

‘ _You should be taking notes.’_ Ashe wrote, pen dotting repeatedly on the word ‘notes.’ Rolling his eyes, Sylvain got out his parchment and pen. Why on earth should Ashe care if any of the others overhear? Not like every member of the Blue Lions wouldn’t be overwhelmingly supportive.

But then Sylvain remembered how timid Ashe had been about his attraction for another guy, and then recalled his own years of self-denial, and firmly put away the jest he was about to give Ashe.

‘ _Details. Now,’_ Sylvain wrote with his overly perfect, heavily practised cursive.

_‘We cooked together. I taught him a recipe my parents used to cook. It went disastrously, but he was cute.’_

_‘Cute enough to kiss????’_ He emphasized his eagerness with multiple question marks. Ashe shifted in his seat with embarrassment, and Sylvain added more question marks until he answered. The tiniest scrawling of a word, but he responded.

_‘yes’_

Sylvain pushed him in the shoulder with excitement. “Get it Ashe!” he whispered. 

“Boys!” Professor Manuela shouted, in a sudden show of interest for her surroundings. 

“Sorry Professor,” Ashe mumbled, red in both the face and neck, he furiously started scrawling the notes she’d put on the board. 

“Sorry Professor Manuela,” Sylvain said with more confidence, “we just couldn’t believe we had the honor of being taught by someone so beautiful and intelligent as yourself. Not that Professor Byleth isn’t, of course, but they say variety is the spice of life.” He winked at her. 

From the other side of the room, Felix turned around to give him a scathing look. Ingrid groaned. Manuela, on the other hand, gave Sylvain a curious look before unceremoniously closing the textbook with one hand, making a satisfying ‘ _plop’_ noise.

“Perhaps you’re right, Sylvain,” Manuela said charmingly. “Variety _can_ be beneficial. Why, you are in fact reminding me of the difference between learned knowledge and practical knowledge. Why don’t you come up here and show us some of that _practical_ knowledge.”

Sylvain swallowed, his heart rate lifting, not missing the seductive tone of her voice. Never, in a thousand years did he expect Manuela to flirt back. 

Turned out it hadn’t been a thousand years and Sylvain wasn’t sure which reality he’d prefer. One where he had to inform Manuela he was taken in front of the whole class or this one where Manuela had sufficiently embarrassed him by putting him through the multiple rigours of white magic casting--something Byleth never told him to give any thought to, and something he was actively failing at in front of everyone. Even Mercedes refused to meet his pleading eye. 

“Oh, come on champ!” Manuela falsely encouraged, “Give it one more go! Brute force can accomplish anything after all.” Sylvain knew the point she was trying to make. The whole class did. Professor knew best, and he should have kept his mouth shut and paid attention. 

“Steady hands, now, don’t want to suture muscles in the wrong place.” He swallowed, focusing on his hand, seeing the trembling Manuela had mentioned. 

Flashes across his mind.

Heart beat pounding in his chest,

But no feeling of blood anywhere inside him.

Messy cursive on a page. 

His mother’s voice.

A sharp slap.

Trembling hands.

Neat cursive on a page.

Sylvain dropped his hand right as the white magic had appeared, giving up on summoning the faith required to power the white magic. He swallowed down the pain with a smile--it’s not worth it to let anyone worry about him. 

“I’m sorry Professor Manuela,” he said with a youthful smile. “Seems I’m just too blinded by your charm to produce any white magic. Perhaps someone else would do well under your lovely tutelage. I’ll take notes and won’t disturb your lesson again, you have my promise.” He waited for Manuela to give him permission to leave, ignoring Felix’s concerned gaze and Ingrid rolling her eyes as he sat back by Ashe.

“Felix,” Manuela said. “Your father is an accomplished faith healer is he not? Show me what you got.”

* * *

Felix and Sylvain were late to class once again the following day. This time their Professor was present, but, and causing much concern, also ignored their late arrival. They each took their seat in the eerily quiet classroom. No one had parchment out, no scribbling of notes, no chalk writing against the board. Sylvain’s gut churned. Something was seriously off about the Professor. 

They were not instructing yet--didn’t they have battle formations to plot out for the mission this weekend? Their hand was pressed into their temple and forehead, nursing some sort of headache, which for someone who was low on supply with the emotional queues, emitted such ‘don’t fuck with me right now’ energy Sylvain, readied a smile and a charming quip while sinking into his seat wishing to disappear. 

The Professor removed their hand, lifting their head to look pointedly at Felix and then Sylvain. He gave them an easy, disarming smile, to which they responded with a longer stare until he dropped it. They were displeased and nothing Sylvain could say or do would change that.

“Now that everyone is here, there has been a change of plans,” they started. “We’re off the mission this weekend.” Their words were all that was needed to spark the tension to finally break into an avalanche.

“What!? But Professor--” Dimitri interjected.

“Did we do something wrong?” Ashe asked.

“Does this mean we can’t graduate in time?” Annette said, panicked. 

“Professor, I don’t mean to be rude, but you do look under the weather. Perhaps this is a good thing,” Dedue said.

“I’m sure the Professor has a reasonable explanation, everyone,” Ingrid said diplomatically.

“Ingrid’s right! I’m sure we’re needed elsewhere, is that correct professor?” Mercedes chimed in.

“Is this why you were gone yesterday? And here I thought you finally found yourself someone to spend some quality time with,” Sylvain winked. 

Byleth lifted a hand signalling them all to silence, adding yet another pointed stare towards Sylvain. At least this one didn’t feel so full of disappointment. 

“You all will graduate in time, I promise. The Black Eagles will be taking over what was our mission in Adrestia. Yesterday, at the Archbishops request, I had a longer than expected conversation with her and Seteth, they wish for me to...erm…” they paused, taking a breath before looking up at the ceiling. Were they...rolling their eyes? Praying to Serios? Regardless, they looked extremely annoyed. _Must have put up quite the fight for the Blue Lions to keep this mission._ Sylvain felt the touch of pride and appreciation for his professor. They really looked out for all of them. 

“I am to have a ‘revelation’ inside the Holy Tomb here, located deep under the Cathedral,” they continued. “There will be no battle this month. Instead, you all are expected to accompany me inside the Tomb as representative of the Ten Elite. Felix, this means your punishment is moot. You will be expected there by the Archbishop herself, don’t think you can get out of it.”

“Hrmph, I wasn’t,” Felix said crossly. Sylvain chuckled at how quickly the Professor was able to ascertain Felix’s disinterest in this. Sylvain though? He was already picturing how handsome Felix is going to look in full battle regalia. 

“A revelation? From the Goddess, herself? To think we’ll have the honor of attending such a historical event,” Dimitri said. With that, the classroom burst into excitement at the news, despite the Professor’s uneasy attitude towards the situation. 

Sensing Sylvain was twitching to tease Dimitri, Felix shot him a knowing look, and Sylvain rolled his eyes, proceeding to mentally check out for the rest of class while the devout Serios Church boy gushed about the upcoming event. 

* * *

“Sylvain, a word please,” Professor Byleth said as the rest of the class was filing out. 

“Sure thing! Ashe, save me a seat for lunch yeah?” Like hell he was going to let him sneak away this time. He was going to get him to spill the more juicy details about his date with Caspar. 

“Come on, Ashe, let’s wait for him outside,” Felix said.

“Oh, erm, I was actually-heh-uhm, going to grab lunch with--” Ashe stuttered, but Sylvain was already steps ahead.

“Oh hey, I feel you man. Some days you just wanna get lost in a person’s eyes during a meal. I get it.”

“Uh, that’s not what--” He looked between Sylvain and Felix, “Oh...Right,” Ashe said awkwardly.

Felix rolled his eyes, amber and beautiful and, wow he’s been lost in them for years unknowingly hasn’t he? “I’ll be waiting,” Felix said.

“Sylvain,” the Professor said again, “I’ll be brief.” Sylvain didn’t miss how Felix’s own eyes lingered on him, stepping falsely before heading out, hesitant to leave him behind. He’d been hovering, attached to him like a shadow, ever since the incident with Dimitri, and even if Sylvain didn’t quite understand it he loved having the attention. 

“Sylvain?”

“Huh?” He shook his boyfriend’s visage from his mind. “Sorry Professor, got distracted.”

“Right. I have a lot on my mind as well, and...I see no point in continuing this curfew of yours with the duties the Archbishop will be expecting of me,” they said, exhausted.

“Hey, let me stop you right there, Professor. It isn’t fair how much the Archbishop is placing on you. I’m mean, yeah, sure, you’ve merged with the goddess or whatever, but doesn’t that mean you get to call the shots? You deserve to take time for yourself. Spend the night with someone nice, who’d take care of you for once, ya know? Real thankful about the curfew though,” he added with a wink. 

“I appreciate that, Sylvain, but much of this is now out of my hands. I do want to take the time to remind you, however, that your actions will still reflect upon your peers and upon me and, you know what, why not? The goddess too. But I won’t say don’t disappoint them because I know that would only encourage you,” they grumbled.

“Ouch, Professor, that hits hard you know,” he said insincerely. They’ve had him pegged for a few months now. “Although I think the goddess is all for finding love and such. I recall such scripture--” They broke him off before he could start reciting said lines.

“What I will say is this: enjoy your happiness Sylvain. It is real. We can all see that. And you are well deserving of it.”

He stood gobsmacked. He hadn’t expected them to say that. “Uh, thanks. That...really means a lot,” he said sheepishly.

“I mean it. But also,” they said ominously, leaning forward over their desk to stare deep into Sylvain’s soul, “Do not be dragging Felix around for an open rendezvous again. I am still trying forget--” they closed their eyes, shifting their head slightly in a shudder. Sylvain laughed nervously.

“Hey, not that I appreciate all of this and let me be clear, the punishment was super valid and necessary. But honestly, Professor?” They looked toward him in a pleading manner. “And I swear I’m not lying.” He waited with baited breath to see if they’d betray any sign of belief, but none came. “Felix is the one you should be warning about that, not me.”

“Felix,” they said with mild disbelief. Enough for Sylvain to know they really didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, I know, trust me, I was just as surprised too. I mean, you saw how surprised I was when--”

“No. Out. We’re done.”

“Hey! Wait a second! Can I have my old room back?” They were already collecting paperwork and shoving both of them to the door.

“I don't care anymore, Sylvain. Good-day.”

* * *

_CLANG-THUD_

The large bag Sylvain had hauled upstairs to _his_ room, and not Dedue’s (thank the goddess) hit the floor and he caught himself on his knees to catch his breath. _Maybe Leonie and Raph are on to something with all that weight training._ He’d just hoped Felix wouldn’t suddenly burst through the door to chastise him on his lack of stamina training. Then again, he rides a horse for crying out loud, why does he need to be able to run?

Luckily, it was Wednesday night, which meant Felix would be preoccupied with training until the late hours of the night after which he’d (hopefully) crawl into Sylvain’s bed. Yes, for once he was thankful his boyfriend, or anyone for that matter, wasn’t around as he had just gotten his custom armor from the blacksmith. His ‘prize’ for passing his great knight exam (Felix, of course, had been the real prize). 

He absolutely did not want to make an embarrassment of himself while trying to don it for the first time. Sure, he’d technically passed his exam, but heavy armor still was a foreign concept to him. 

He’s supposed to be a sauve knight, saving ladies, and kissing babes, not fumbling with the various buckles ( _thanks Felix_ ) and latches as he was doing so now. He stood in front his mirror, holding a... _shit what was this called again? Poleyns? No, that was the knee piece and I’m definitely wearing those right now._

He sighed, and doffed it all to try again. He needed to be good at this. Never know when one might be attacked, especially where he’s from. The quicker he can don it the quicker he can get on the field to protect everyone.

The second try went better, but he messed up the order of operations and couldn’t get the...the...whatever the hell the bicep piece was called, on. He grumbled, not wanting to have to do the awkward reach around to unbuckled himself and do it all again. So instead he took a look at himself in the mirror.

It was weird. The soldiers of Gauiter generally don’t wear armor, a chest piece here and there and maybe some grieves for the picky individual, but the far northern region of Faerghus was too cold for full suits of armor. That, and the fast insurgent fighters of Sreng forced the border soldiers to match their might. Typically they wore layers of leathers and quilted padding, dyed in the Gautier colors of teal and burgundy. For Sylvain to see himself in the darkened, quenched iron armor, he...rather liked it. It was different. He could see something of himself that wasn’t Gautier, that was just...Sylvain. And while the armor wasn’t situated on his body properly, he looked good. Hell, maybe even handsome in it.

A laugh came from behind him, both beautiful and alarming to the perceived solitude he thought he possessed. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Ah-h! Felix!” He turned from the mirror, quickly hiding the misordered piece of armor behind him. “What the--I mean, hey man! What’s going on? Training dummies not doing it for you?”

“No. Apparently I needed to see a real life dummy instead,” he said, lacking any bite whatsoever. In fact, he was smiling at Sylvain and not trying at all to hide his laughter from him. “So glad I had the urge, would have been my life’s biggest regret to have missed Sylvain Jose Gautier hitting on himself in a mirror. Didn’t think you could stoop so low.” 

“You think that’s stooping low? You’re the one always stooping to about…” he placed his hand, measuring up to belt height, “here,” and proceeded to morph his hand, reminiscent of holding his head, and playfully thrusted forward a few times. His boyfriend rolled his eyes at him, but notedly did not protest it. He dropped the gesture, opening his arms up into a shrug as if to say ‘ _take a look at me, what do you think I was doing.’_

“I was so not hitting on myself, Fe,” Sylvain said. “If that were the case you would have found an _entirely_ different scene.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “I know your wanton look anywhere.” Before Sylvain could respond to that Felix changed the subject. Which was a shame because Sylvain had plenty to say on the subject. “Why the hell are you trying to don your armor by yourself?”

“Uh, practice?” 

“Tch, idiot,” Felix said, rolling his eyes. He stepped forward to inspect Sylvain’s work shaking his head with disappointment. Sylvain tried his best not to let it affect him, but he had after all, donned it with hopes of no one seeing him--least not until he got the hang of it. “Byleth must have really pitied your sorry ass when they passed you--not that I’m complaining.” He sighed. “You’re not supposed to don your armor by yourself. That’s what squires are for. Here--” Felix tugged at his poorly laid pieces of armor, undoing the straps that held them in place. Feeling Felix fumbling around with the leather straps around him...well, Sylvain was trying his best not to let it affect him. _Trying._

“I’ve seen plenty of the border knights strap themselves into their chest pieces and Dedue gets his armor on just fine by himself,” Sylvain countered while Felix pushed him to hold his arms still.

“That’s just a breastplate, not a full suit. And how do you know that? Ever seen him don it?”

“Ah…” Now that he thinks about it, Dedue just shows up with his armor already on. “No…?”

“Exactly.” He held his hand out expectantly and Sylvain gave him the arm piece. “It’s not designed to be easily--” he grunted as he tightened a strap (surely that was too much force for what was needed right? _Saints, this is not sexy, this is not sexy, this is not sexy, do not--)_ “Ah--taken off,” Felix finished.

Sylvain bit his lip, “And how do you know this?” Felix stepped back, offended, and squinted at him, like he was missing something obvious. He blinked. 

Shit. 

Because he was.

“Right!” Sylvain quickly corrected. Damn chub was making him dumb. “The Western Rebellion. You squired then for Dimitri, didn’t you?” Felix didn’t respond, instead checking over some of the work Sylvain had done, leaving some, fixing and tightening others and _dear Goddess it’s getting hot in here._

“There. You can tell this is a custom fit for you, not many get the honor, let alone students.”

“Yeah, I think it looks pretty good too.” 

_Thunk-klink!_ Felix smacked the breastplate. “It’s not meant to look good you idiot. It’s meant to keep you from dying.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look good while doing it,” he winked into the mirror in Felix’s direction and didn’t miss how his boyfriend’s lips turn up (along with an eye roll of course). “Com’on I can tell you like the way I look. Heroic huh? You best be laying your claim to me ‘cause all the babes are going to want a piece of--” _Klink!_ “Hah! You’re going to have to hit me harder than that!” Felix gave him a look that said, _do not test me,_ but backed off. 

“Since you’re not technically a knight yet you won’t have a squire assigned to you. I can help you in the meantime, I guess,” Felix mumbled.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” The look on Felix’s face made him almost regret the words; insult mixed with some sort of confusion. 

“And why’s that?” he hissed. 

“Uh, ‘cause just you going around me, adjusting all those straps--”

“You’re seriously not turned on right now,” he huffed. Sylvain sauntered forward, licking his lips.

“I so am, but you’re welcome to check under my _fauld of four lames_ to see for yourself,” Sylvain said, indicating towards his crotch, seeing if his amazing, vast, and totally-didn’t-purge-all-information-after-he’d-passed-the-exam knowledge of armor would impress his boyfriend. 

It did not, at least outwardly. Felix pushed him back (gently), rolled his eyes (and crossed his arms, guarded. Against what? Oh, Sylvain had an idea), and looked away at him, annoyed (but not with Sylvain). 

Good thing Sylvain has spent near a lifetime learning to read and interpret fidgety Felix Fraldarious. 

“So tell me,” Sylvain flirted, “you had the urge to leave training early to come see me, huh?” Felix crossed his arms tighter, and huffed, but a blush was forming. 

“No.” 

“Mhm…” he kissed his neck. “Sure Felix. How ‘bout you help me out of this now?”

“I’d rather watch you struggle,” he said, leaning his face away from Sylvain which had the (obviously calculated) benefit of letting Sylvain kiss more of his neck.

“That’s fine. I don’t need to be fully dismantled to take care of you.” 

* * *

He absolutely did need help getting out of it, and Felix did not spare him any laughs while he struggled. Wasn’t exactly the mood he had been trying to create, but hey, he’d make a complete clown of himself over and over again just to make Felix laugh. 

He had worried the mood had dissolved from the room with that. 

The fact that he was now naked on his back holding his knees for Felix to line himself up said otherwise. 

“Training dummies really weren’t doing it for ya?” he winked at his boyfriend.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, you sexy swordsman, I wish you would make me.” Felix grunted low as he pressed him, leaving Sylvain with only metered moans as he adjusted. They were trying something different this time, although considering it was only their second time that wasn’t saying much. Felix had pulled him to the edge of the bed, where he stood slowly pressing his way in until he bottomed out inside Sylvain. 

“Unfortunately,” Felix grunted, “this seems to do the opposite of closing your trap.” Case in point Sylvain was currently mumbling a slew of words of which only he personally knew contained phrases such as ‘sexy swordsman,’ ‘I love you,’ and ‘you’re cock is so fucking big,’ and to which Felix could only moderately guess at. 

Finally the burning stretch subsided and only the need for pleasure remained. He rocked his hips upward in a small feat of core work from all the riding he does, needing Felix’s cock to move inside him.

“Ah-h! Syl--” Felix jerked from the abruptness. “You, _oh_ , you needy whore.” He grabbed Sylvain by the crease of his thighs and pulled back slowly to press back in with speed, building into a pace that sent Sylvain upward high toward the heavens. 

“ _Nnh!_ Yes! Fe-Felix! Need you! Need-- _ah!_ ” He pulled his knees closer to him, assisting his lover with the aim. He was very thankful for this positioning, even though he knew Felix loved to manhandle his legs. He had more control over himself, allowing him to shift accordingly, and not needing to worry about Felix stretching him beyond his abilities. As such, he contracted into himself more, lifting his hips so Felix could--

“Yee--ah-h! AH! Oh-Goddess-Felix-More-PLEASE!” Felix responded in kind, grabbing under his ass to support him, allowing Sylvain to lose himself amid the bedsheets. He clawed at the pillows, grabbing anything within reach--he screaming into something...a pillow? A balled up portion of his sheets? Whatever, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Felix.

“You fucking slut, you-- _Ah-h,_ Sylvain, you,” Felix grunted. He rolled his head back with a moan of filthy pleasure, pounding into Sylvain. “ _My slut.”_

Sylvain howlered from the usage, nearly coming untouched just from hearing Felix speak it. His lover chuckled darkly, slowing his pace to a crawl. “Yeah, you’re mine you insatiable--sexy--fuck!” Felix gasped before he could finish, ceasing all movement with a hiss as he scrunched up his face. Sylvain’s eyes went wide, staring at the beautiful man, now flushed and panting as he tried to calm himself. The longer he took, the louder Sylvain whined.

A moment’s pause before Felix finally opened his eyes, a dark glint having found its home in the thin ring of amber surrounding his blown out pupils. 

“You good there, champ?” Sylvain teased, inciting his boyfriend. Felix meant to toy with him, to play with _his_ toy Sylvain, and Sylvain would fight all four Saints before someone tried to stop him from doing so. He moaned as Felix caressed up and down the sides of his body, leaning in to kiss his calves and eventually taking his mouth to his nipples, sucking and biting. Squirming beneath him, a hand soon made its way to his hardened cock, precum smearing around the head as Felix drove slow pumps to match the agonizing speed of his hips. He could hear Felix laughing at him as he whined and wailed, sensations somehow managing to be both overwhelming and not enough. 

“Fe, please,” he whined, feeling his body being pushed upwards. Felix was sliding him more onto the bed, crawling forwards to mount his body more properly. “I want more.” Somehow Felix had developed a knack for pulling all of Sylvain’s emotions to the surface during sex; tears were forming and falling from the sides of his eyes as he whined. “Don’t hold back this time! Please! I love you! I need you! More--ah, Fe!”

Felix detached himself from his nipple, tossing his head backwards, messy hair arching back with him, to admire the mess beneath him. The hand on Sylvain’s cock moved only in a teasing manner, but Sylvain could sense something more, deeper than just a wish to tease. It was with the way Felix stared at him now. _Love._

“So pretty, Sylvain,” He said, biting his lip, but scowled when several strands of his hair fell from the sloppy ponytail. Removing his hand from Sylvain’s cock, he pulled the tie out, hair going free. Sylvian swore time slowed down as the spectacle of his raven hair falling down over his slender neck and gorgeous collar bones unfolded above him. Felix put it back up with ease and unbreaking eye contact. 

“But let me be clear,” Felix said with a surprising amount of diction considering he was balls deep inside him. “You take whatever _I_ give you, understood?” Sylvain could only nod, dumbfounded, how was he this hot? “Good,” he smirked. “Now what happened to my noisy boyfriend? Don’t say the princess has gone shy on me now.” On command, Sylvain moaned his boyfriend’s name loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Instantly he was rewarded. Felix probably thought he was doing so by rekindling the rhythm of his thrust, but no; it was the genuine, joyus smile that Sylvain knew only he could put there. 

Felix leans forward over Sylvain, close enough to kiss, which was great because kissing Felix is great, but sadly right now Sylvain doesn’t need kisses, he needs his boyfriend to ram into that sweet spot repeatedly and the new angle just wasn’t going to do it. He’s fairly certain Felix shifted with that purpose entirely in mind as it has Sylvain begging and whining with a renewed vigor. Felix hummed approvingly, kissing new marks into his neck. 

Having grown tired of holding his legs, he instinctually locks them around Felix’s back.

“Oh,” Sylvain said suddenly and shortly, a clear break from all his moaning.

“What,” Felix grunts at his neck, mildly slowing down his thrusting. 

“I--” For some reason, with his feet hooked around Felix, binding them together...it’s not like this wasn’t just sex before. This was Felix, the only person he can truly say he’s loved. But now...there wasn’t any change in the amount of pleasure. Felix was still grinding into him, sucking at his neck and playing with his nipple. No, now it was _intimate_ and Sylvain had never let himself cross that line before. It was more than sex. He was being consumed by Felix equally as Sylvain was enveloping him. 

_I get it, I get it now._ He never thought he’d have something like this, sex that could be more than just pleasure. _This is how people stay together, forever. Destiny. Fate. Soulmatched for all eternity. My Felix, my love, take all of me as I take you._

With his hands free he wrapped his arms around Felix, feeling the strong muscles of his back, clinging to him like he was humanity’s last savior. Well, maybe not humanity’s but he was definitely Sylvain’s. 

“I love you,” he said too loudly into Felix’s ear. Felix pulled back, but Sylvain’s vice-like grip held him in place.

“Let me-arg! I wanna see you.” Sylvain released his arms, but dared not with his legs for fear of losing the intimacy he never knew he needed filled, _could_ be filled. Felix sat up, shifting their hips and pulling Sylvain along, forcing him to arch his back with his legs still wrapped around--

“Ahh-hh fuckfuck oh shit! Felix right there!” Sylvain cried suddenly. Goddess, he was so close now, so close, he just needed--

“Say it again.”

“Felix!”

“Don’t you dare come,” he growled, but only hit against him harder, making the task a feat of near impossibility. “Say it. Again.” 

“I love you!” Sylvain cried, tears falling down the sides of his face once more. He saw a flicker of glee flash across Felix’s eyes. Or was it optimism? Whatever it was it was beautiful along with the small smile that presented itself with the words. A smile that quickly turned devilish as hands returned to his needing cock and nipple. 

Surprisingly, Felix came first, but Sylvain quickly followed. 

Had they both not been so close, Sylvain would have liked to have flipped Felix over and rode him, worshiping and bestowing all the tender intimacy he, no _they_ , deserved. But he was more than blissed out of his mind, with a cheerfully humming Felix by his side, slowly feeding Sylvain his own spent as he always liked to do. 

_Next time_ , he thought, kissing Felix drunkenly. _Next time and the time again, and again after that._

Sadly, there was never a next time.

* * *

It was the early hours of the morning which made Sylvian think for once this week they wouldn’t be late to lecture. Felix was already awake, because of course he was. He’s fairly certain all Fraldariuses are born with the constant need for ever vigilance, their blood removing the burden of sleep.

Or more likely Felix was just a morning person. 

“Doubt any girls will think you’re single now,” Felix said with his groggy, definitely not cute, morning voice. How Saint Cethleann had determined Sylvain worthy enough to hear it was beyond him, but he was thankful nonetheless. Maybe he’d shoot her some prayers later today. He wrapped his arm around Felix to bring him closer, enjoying his unique scent and nearness.

“And how’s that, oh beautiful swordsman of mine?” 

Felix kissed his neck. “Those marks will definitely show above that armor of yours.” The look on Sylvain’s face must have been interpreted as surprise by Felix. “You did warn me to claim you, did you not.”

Sylvain relaxed, not realizing he had tensed. “Of course. I’m yours, Felix.”

It was a struggle to get dressed, or rather remained dressed, as they got ready for the day. Felix had made it clear he didn’t want to be late again, which, fair, Sylvain didn’t want to be either. 

“We’re going to be graduating soon,” Felix said.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Can’t we just stay here forever?”

“We can’t. You know this. What are you intending to do once we’re done?”

“Well, the Margrave isn’t going to be kicking it anytime soon, and I’ve sure as flames done my best to not encourage him to an early retirement.” Sylvain sighed. He really didn’t like thinking about the future. It wasn’t even his future, but a one selected for him. This time at the Officer’s Academy was all he really had to mold into his own. “I guess I was just planning on doing whatever my father needs of me. Fight at the border, eventually be auctioned off as a stud horse to the highest bidder. You know, Gautier shit.”

“Sylvain,” Felix said painfully. 

“What? Like I’ve ever had any other option?” 

“You do. I--My old man will want to shirk off some responsibilities to me once I’m graduated. I intend on not letting that happen.” Sylvain’s hopes lifted. Was Felix saying he’s going to denounce his claim? “I plan to make myself scarce within the territory, returning home only when absolutely necessary to avoid him. Fraldarius is full of bandits, it’ll take some time before they’re all cleared out. You…” Felix looked away bashfully. “You could join me.”

“It’s not that easy, Felix.”

“It is. I can easily convince my father the Duke’s territory is in far more dire need of you and the Lance than the border. He outranks yours.”

Sylavin laughed cruelly, a sound closer to a bark than anything. “Ha! Sure, Fe. I’ll even ride to Gautier just to tell my father to his face I’m getting fucked so hard by the Fraldarius heir the goddess has awoken anew. You want to come with? I’m sure it’ll be a show. I bet he’ll even give me a scar to rival my brother's,” he finished darkly.

“Don’t--”

“No, Felix, be real. We? Us?” He signaled between them frantically. “It’ll literally cause a civil war.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You don’t know my father like I do. The deals he’s dealt under the table over the years to keep Sreng at bay. He has more allies than you think, and the backing of the military, one that thanks to that useless man babysitting the throne is far more loyal to him than he lets on.” 

“My father--”

“Is a loyalist. An ally. _Currently_.”

“You can’t seriously think we’d tip that--”

“You don’t know him, Felix. Bloodline is _everything_ to him.”

“We can,” Felix said, slightly panicked. “There’s other options. We could bring in a third, we could--”

“I don’t want another, Felix. You,” Sylvain said, grabbing Felix’s hands to bring to his heart. “I only want you. I’m yours. You’re mine. So please, can we just...enjoy the time we have left here? I don’t want to think or talk about the future anymore. All I ever want is now.” He leaned forward to kiss Felix, who reciprocated rather dispassionately. Sylvain sighed and held him with Felix placing his ear against his chest. 

“I’m not giving up on you,” Felix said quietly. 

Sylvain closed his eyes, wishing for all the times he had tried to run away from his life to have been possible. The knowledge his father, for all his non-redeemable qualities, was deeply in love with and devoted wholly to his mother. His mother who, after Sylvain, was deemed barren. Sylvain, who after seeing the bloodhunt his father went on to find him in the winter mountains after Miklan left him, was not reassured but instead dismayed. Seven years old, trekking home, holding his father’s bloodstained hand through a crumb-trail of bodies, all slain by the Lance, only to arrive home to watch four more be hung, all because of him. 

But something about Felix made him entertain the idea of running away every now and then, despite the danger. 

“Good,” Sylvain whispered back.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Caspar totally thought Ashe just wanted to cook a cool meal and didn't get it was a date until Ashe nervously pecked him on the cheek.  
> -Caspar, literal pikachu face, excitedly dragging Ashe back to his dorm  
> -Dimitri helps Dedue don his armor =)  
> -Manuela, so she could sub for Byleth at last notice, sent the Golden Deer on a *very* serious mission to clean out the library which turned into chaos with Claude scanning the books instead of putting them away, Marianne knocking over a bookshelf, Leonie with a too tall stack of books tripping over Ignatz looking for a pen on the ground, Lorenz selfishly and neatly organizing ONE section of the library he'll claim responsibility for, Raphael is just trying to follow conflicting orders for 3 people at once, Lysithea being one such person, and poor Hilda's trying to keep them all together and on task (and doing no work herself).  
> -Manuela returns to the library a la that famous Community gif with a pizza in hand and everything a wreck.  
> -Manuela hunts down Byleth once they're done to go drinking  
> -Manuela and Byleth are drinking buddies if you haven't guessed by now  
> -Hanneman: Isn't it a little *early* to be drinking now?  
> -Byleth: Aren't you supposed to be supervising your house or something? (manuela: ya! Go supervise someone else!)  
> -Hanneman: My class, unlike both of yours, has a propensity for not garnering drama or troublemakers and as such needs no such supervision  
> -Sothis, time traveler from the future: *looks into the camera*
> 
> Only two chapters remain!!!!
> 
> 2021 is the year of the thirst so be sure to stay hydrated my friends ;)


	19. Tomorrow, to War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crack.
> 
> And the sound of porcelain shattering on the floor.
> 
> Silence.
> 
> Edelgard...how?
> 
> Everything changed when the Imperial army attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to my headcanons of making the holy tomb mission make sense because I simply cannot fathom Rhea being all "yes, yes, my child you need to sit upon the throne and your students should be there as well and ready to fight a terrible battle at a moments notice."
> 
> smash cut to two horses, a pegasi, and a wyvern in the ancient Nabatean elevator with a jazz rendition of "Edge of Dawn" playing in awkward silence. LIKE WHAT? NO.
> 
> So here the team is in the spooky basement, wearing Elite Ten battle regalia that isn't really supposed to be battle ready. Sylvain has his armor because he looks fucking dope in it and he threw on the Gautier cloak over it and nobody really stopped him. They're all wearing circlets representing their ancestor because circlets are amazing fantasy accessories and you can't stop me. Ashe is rep'ing Riegan and Dedue is rep'ing Goneril. Just, like a lot of beautiful golden embroidery of the crests on these clothing items. Thousands of hours of work about to be ruined with some blood 😢
> 
> Also! I'm really pumped to finally drop my headcanon for relic users. Mood inspiration comes from the song "Vulture, Vulture" by Of Monsters and Men and is a great mood setter for the first half of this chapter!
> 
> ~~~~Points to the Canon-Typical Violence tag~~~~

Nothing happened. 

All this pomp and circumstance and nothing. 

It was merely the Professor sitting on a chair. No more.

No wonder the Professor was so annoyed, they probably knew this would happen.

Sylvain snorted; Ingrid elbowed him. 

“I don’t understand…” Rhea said lightly. Mercedes looked like she was about to comfort the Archbishop, but then thought better of it. Annette and Ashe were too busy still aweing about the place to notice anything (not that there _was_ anything to notice what with the whole lot of nothing currently happening) while Dimitri (and by extension Dedue), Felix, and Ingrid stood tall, chivalrous, and patient. Sylvain might include himself in the latter, they all had the same Faerghan principals beat into them, but he could tell only Ingrid was being honest about it. Dimitri, true to Felix’s word, was off and mentally somewhere else; Felix looked a cross between bored and on edge; Sylvain was just bored. He'd never had to stand still for hours on end at the various parades at the capitol. He stood vigilant at the border, freezing his ass off for days on end where no one cared if your shoulders were square or if your shoes were clean enough. 

His mother still made him practice for it anyhow. Because you never know when a Gautier would be needed in court (unlikely) or if the Goddess would reincarnate inside a professor at Garreg Mach Monastery (it's more common than you know!).

He was hoping this’d be over soon so he could finagle his boyfriend into ordering him around while still wearing his regalia (which, for the record, he was _astoundingly_ hot in). The night was still young and they had a whole weekend ahead of them for Sylvain to convince Felix to fuck him in nothing but that embroidered waistcoat and thigh highs.

True to his word, Sylvain stood on the other side of the crowd, away from Dimitri. But Felix stood by their future King’s side, as was expected of the ancestor of Fraldarius and Kyphon.

Separated in due part to bloodlines, as if it were foretold.

He took a look at the Professor who was starting to look uncomfortable. How long is long enough to sit on a jade throne with nothing happening before standing up? Ten seconds? Thirty? A minute? The longer time passed, the more the room thickened with awkwardness. The Archbishop was beginning to mutter under her breath, and Sylvain’s ear doesn't recognize the language. With her voice alone the air shifts, although to what mood Sylvain can’t tell. Pressure was rising from multiple sources and it took a moment before Sylvain could identify it all.

The Archbishop was clearly upset, she expected...something to happen, where nothing was still, most decidedly happening. Did she want something to have happened to the Professor? Sylvain wasn't a religious man, in fact most of the Blue Lions weren’t despite their upbringing, so he wasn’t actually expecting the Goddess to speak to their Professor. No, the Archbishop was likely intending something else to happen which was only solidified by seeing the Professor’s current reaction. 

They were toeing some sort of line with the Archbishop; a power exchange? Or maybe this was some sort of betrayal? He’d heard the rumors of shouting between them and the Archbishop and then later between Seteth and the Archbishop throughout the week. Whatever it was, Sylvain was prepared to throw his hat in with the Professor, and judging by the way Felix was gripping his sword tighter, he wasn’t the only one to notice this shift and make a choice. 

The hairs on his neck stood up, and both Sylvain and Annette looked up with slight alarm; the faintest smell of lightning in the air. _Warp spells._

Felix turned to Dimitri, scowling as he was already drawing his sword. At the same time Dimitri spun on his heels, shoving the Archbishop backwards shouting, “Halt! Reveal yourself!” 

An army. 

The Imperial army.

_The Flame Emperor._

* * *

Sylvain cursed, spitting out blood from a severe gash in his lip. He’d just taken a sequence of nasty punches from a brawler while attempting to grab one of the crest stones from him. There were too many of them, the tomb too large, the enemy forces too spread out.

And he didn’t have his damn horse. 

The goddess might as well have sent him to the Eternal Flames early with all the Saints-be-damned running he was doing in a suit of armor. 

“Sylvain! The flyer! Do it!” He heard the Professor shout at him. The grave robber was getting away but sure enough, a flyer was rapidly encroaching on Flayn and Mercedes. Had the Professor not said anything, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!?” Flyan and Mercedes could hold their own and besides, he really, _really_ , hated doing it.

‘ _Just know_ _I won’t ever use it’s abilities, Professor,’_ he had told them when they’d ask him to hold onto the Lance. ‘ _Not unless you ask me to.’_ Once, and only once, had he been able to convince the Professor mid-battle to change strategy, so that he didn’t have to relinquish control to the demons inside him. Since then, he’s taken the time to make sure they were absolutely certain.

“NOW.” 

_Ugh, fine_. “I’m on it!” Sylvain yelled.

He pointed the Lance towards the gaining axe wielding flyer and exhaled deeply, so deep it hurt his lungs and dropped his gaze to focus inward. He sent his consciousness deeper into his soul, eyes going hazy, an effect, no matter how many times he’s done it, that still freaked him out. It was like he was leaving his body, or rather forcing his body to stop living for a moment while he...went elsewhere. It was unclear really what happened. Even Professor Hanneman had inconclusive findings on the topic, but unlike most of his crest-wielding friends, Sylvain found it deeply unsettling. 

Everything went quiet, his internal mechanisms rolling to a stop and without fail, it lasted _just_ long enough for him to think he'd truly once and for all kicked the bucket before his heart beat in two places. One inside his body, the other in the crest stone inside Lance of Ruin. ~~Sylvain~~ It writhed, and he felt the Lance quaking as if it were his own hand. No, that’s not right, _this is_ his hand, a wretched malformed finger pointing towards the heavens. It demanded the blood price, and he wanted to watch the sky burn just to pay it. 

He licked his lips in sweet anticipation, eyes hungry for death. There was a sick satisfaction he lived for once he and the Lance were one, a one track mind to rip open the sky and hail ruin upon ~~their its~~ His enemies. Reaching his newly fangled claw into the heavens, he tore it asunder, readying to rain down the Ruined Sky, watching with glee as His ancestral foe screeched with a joyous terror.

“Open wide,” Gautier snickered. He smirked as he pulled the red colored pins from the tear, hearing the enemy’s cries suddenly cease. “Burn until we meet again.” 

An electric rush of air buzzed past him, his crimson hair lifting on edge. He turned, hearing a cut off gurgled sound of death and the clang of a sword hitting the ground. For a moment, as his breath was still returning from the Lance to him, a deep seeded jealousy raged. A kill had been taken from him. 

“Felix!” The Professor rang, “I told you to advance!”

Fraldarius ran up to him, giving a concerned, foolish look. “You good, Sylvain?” 

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he regained himself. Gazing upon the upsetting ripped apart pegasus and rider, intestines bloodied across the floor, he pushed down the feeling of pride, replacing it with his deep self-loathing. _Death is not something to gloat over,_ he reminded himself, _no matter how skilled I am at bringing it._ The glow of the Lance finally subdued, leaving Sylvain with only the pulse of his heart. He looked to his lover, feet bouncing and primed to move, one hand armed with a sword the other ready with a spell. 

He was never quite okay after using the relic’s true power, but he nodded; there were more pressing issues. There were _always_ more important things to care about on the battlefield besides him. “I’m good. Go,” Sylvain urged Felix on. 

It was clear by now the Professor intended to use Sylvain to cover the rear spellcasters, as he was moving slower without his steed, and needed Felix for the push towards the Flame Emperor. He’d need to get there quick, as it looked like many of the robbers had mostly retreated by now. Dimitri and Dedue were busy slaying a demonic beast and Ingrid had managed to cover Ashe in a forward assault, but more enemies were pressing in. Felix was needed. 

“I’m fine. Ingrid needs you,” Sylvain reiterated. She was also struggling without her mount, but lacking the full suit of armor was still quicker than Sylvain. 

Still Felix hesitated. He pressed his lips nervously, eyes darting around Sylvain’s face, lingering on his lips. “Kiss me later, idiot, go!!” Sylvain commanded.

The sound of a demonic beast yowling in pain diverted Sylvain’s attention away from his love and when he looked back, instead of seeing his steel-hardened face, he saw his back, running away from him and towards the fight.

_Good._

He was not used to being a part of the rearguard, but it had its perks. Seeing Mercedes and Flayn in action, flinging healing spells from across the battlefield with an unmatched skill and precision. No wonder some of the soldiers called them saintly. Together, the three of them were able to finish off another demonic beast after Dimitri, the Professor, and Dedue had charged towards the enemy generals. Both Felix and Ingrid were taking a beating from yet another beast upfront, but Mercedes quickly patched them up enough only for Sylvain to watch again as the beast clawed and slashed at them. If only he wasn’t so slow! If only he had his damned horse!

With the beast slain, they advanced. He saw a thin figured enemy go down by the Professor’s hand and Dimitri was pressing towards the Flame Emperor. Lacking orders, Sylvain opted to flank left, away from them to rejoin with Felix. The Flame Emperor should be plenty distracted between Dimitri and the Professor. The rest of them can force a pincer and, if needed, Dedue can pull Dimitri out of there and Flayn would be close enough to warp Sylvain in at his behest. 

On the fly, he thought it a pretty good strategy. 

That was until the Flame Emperor warped away, to the central portion of the chamber. Impossibly, the Professor anticipated this as their chain sword was already extending in the direction towards him.

A crack.

And the sound of porcelain shattering on the floor. 

Silence.

_Edelgard...how?_

Before he could piece together his thoughts, Dimitri's charming laugh broke the extended silence of her reveal. He continued laughing, and laughing, until the boyish charm of it was all but gone, replaced by a revolting cackle of a mad man.

 **_“Is this some kind of twisted joke!?”_ ** He stepped forward, lance at the ready, pushing the Professor backwards and out of his way. **_“I’ve been looking for you,”_ ** he said in a voice Sylvain had never heard before. Darker, more sinister, and not unlike the deep tones of disgust Miklan used to spit at him. 

Sylvain blinked. Suddenly Felix was in front of sightlines, having slowly side-stepped his way towards him this whole time. He reached out, grabbing Sylvain by the forearm, encouraging him behind him. Sylvain gladly shuffled behind his swordsman.

 **_“I will take that head from your shoulders and hang it from the gates of Enbarr!”_ **Dimitri shouted with a murderous glee. 

The Professor shouted, “No!” and lunged forward towards Dimitri, but they were too late. The Prince had bounded off the platform, launching his lance mid-air, it whistling through the air to meet its new home inside the throat of one of her guards, nearly decapitating them. 

Sylvain stood in shock. _No way. That had to have been, what, fifty, sixty feet away? To hit that distance, mid-air--_

His thoughts were interrupted yet again for Dimitri had not stopped his charge. He clashed with two more of her guards, quickly knocking one to the ground with a loud snap, the man’s neck bending unnaturally upon impact. Unarmed, Dimitri grabbed the second by the head, his momentum knocking them both forward onto the ground. 

Felix slowly pushed them backwards, like a hunter backing off a prey too large and dangerous to fight, forcing Sylvain to take in his surroundings. Everyone was locked in stunned silence at Dimitri’s show of strength. Everyone it seemed, save for Felix.

Dimitri landed on the soldier’s chest, their head still in his hands.

_Cra_ CK-P _looge_!

Mercedes gasped. Ingrid looked away. Ashe stared on, but his face colored like he wanted to retch. Sylvain merely lowered his eyes away.

To this day, the sound still haunts Sylvain.

Dimitri didn’t even stop to wipe his hands of brains to pick up its owner's lance, his face splattered with blood. It was a sight to behold, and for all the wrong reasons. The Prince of Faerghus, brilliant blue long coat lined with the black and white wool native to the sheep of their north, the most regal of all their regalia, billowing in the air as he darted to the next line of soldiers defending their Emperor. The delicate embroidery of the Blaiddyd crest soaked in blood and chunks of flesh and innards, hands stained with so much blood they looked as black as the demonic beasts they had just slain. Atop his head, the circlet of the Elite Blaiddyd, just as the circlet of Gautier rested uptop Sylvain’s, but despite it’s still unsullied, sparkling platinum nature, had taken on a perverse nature, resting skewed on his brow.

Sylvain slowly looked to Felix. Felix who was too calm for what they were witnessing. Felix who was taking this in stride and somehow managed to look annoyed above all else. Felix who--

Felix who has seen this before. 

“Felix...this is what you saw?” Sylvain whispered, still in shock. Partially from Dimitri, but more now from the realization of what a young Felix had gone through, seen, and been trying to warn them of this whole damn time.

Dimitri hadn’t dealt with the Tragedy. Hadn’t dealt with it one bit, and now it was rearing its ugly head. Even worse, Sylvain felt a part of him empathizing with the rage Dimitri was spewing. He would never let his demons take a hold of him to that extent but...he got it. He’d reared his own ugly head when Miklan had stolen the Lance. Sylvain had seen it as every opportunity to punish him as he had punished Sylvain, but when it had come to it, it had all felt so...pointless. He had lowered his weapon and the Professor had finished him off.

Dimitri was having the opposite reaction, behaving like this was the _only_ thing that mattered anymore, and Sylvain didn’t know how to wrap his head around that.

“Worse,” Felix said. “This is only the beginning.” Sylvain’s stomach dropped. If only they had listened to Felix, to what he’d been _really_ saying about Dimitri. They could have helped him.

“We have to stop him.” The ‘ _before he hurts himself’_ was implied. 

“What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do this whole time? There’s no stopping the boar once he’s charging. The best we can do is stay off his path.”

Dimitri single handedly had taken down eight more during their exchange, stopping at nothing, crushing another’s skull with a single hand. Along the way he’d picked up yet another lance, shooting it towards Edelgard’s head and Sylvain thought that was going to be it, but it _somehow_ missed. 

“Wha--” He said, not realizing he’d vocalized his surprise.

“An animal. All rage, nothing human left in him. Attacks mindlessly--Ingrid! Stop!” Felix cried out. She was charging forward, ready to join Dimitri. 

“We have a duty to help His Highness!” she argued back.

“Not the time Ingrid,” Sylvain said. Hell, even Dedue was standing back and, shit, did _that_ say something. “Listen to Felix.”

She didn’t, because of course she didn’t. For all the notorious trouble Felix and Sylvain had gotten into over the years, Ingrid was just as good at ignoring instructions and getting into her own.

“Stand down, Ingrid,” the Professor said firmly. 

They must have sensed it. Maybe they were able to read something in Edelgard’s eyes. Sylvain sure as flames hoped, so at the very least they’d be able to inform everyone of _why_ she was doing this.

Ingrid took another step forward in an attempt to assist His Highness and _zwishh,_ her and the rest of the Imperial army warped away. 

Dimitri streetched. **_“Come back here you monsters and face your judgement!”_ **

“Stay here, don’t let anyone else get close,” Felix said quickly to Sylvain, marching forward to Dimitri before anyone else could speak. He sent a glare towards the Professor that screamed ‘ _I fucking dare you to stop me,’_ and they responded with a nod of approval, as if he needed one. Ingrid was already trying to join them all and Sylvain had to bound forward quickly enough to grab her by the shoulders.

“Arg! Let go, Sylvain!”

“Felix needs to handle this, Ing. Look at him,” he said calmly to her while their prince still wailed and paced in circles where the army had disappeared from. “Felix is the only one who’s seen him like this before. He’ll know how to calm him down.” _I think._ She struggled against him, but Sylvain has always been the stronger one and held her put. “Ingrid! Even Dedue is standing by. Trust in Felix, okay? He’s got this. He’ll get His Highness back to us.” _I think._

“Hrmph,” she pouted, but finally stopped fighting him.

Words were being exchanged between Felix and Dimitri and they were too far away to hear what Felix was saying, but Dimitri only had one volume right now.

**_“Their lives are forfeit! I will slay them all with my bare hands if necessary!”_ **

He thinks Felix is trying to convince him to lay down his arms. 

**_“I will find them, and when I do you best not be standing in my way.”_ **

Dimitri lunged forward and there is a short scuffle between the two that ends with Felix grabbing Dimitri by the back of the neck and pulling him in close, their foreheads almost touching. There’s a pause here, with Felix gripping on to the side of Dimitri’s face in a twisted display of affection from Felix, doublely-so considering how he’d been acting towards Dimitri their whole stay at the Academy. His lips moved quickly, shaking Dimitri’s head in his grip with emphasis and Sylvain can see the desperation in both their eyes. 

**_“I will avenge you!_ ** **I must!”**

Felix visibility recoiled away from Dimitri, gripping his sword tighter.

“Oh shit,” Sylvain said under his breath. 

“Does he think Felix is--” Ingrid began but was interrupted.

“ _I must…._ ” Dimtri’s voice rose in pitch, returning to something Sylvain could recognize, but it’s whining with pain. Felix’s free hand clenched and unclenched in a wave-like pulsing, deciding on whether to punch or slap Dimitri. He shocked Sylvain by doing neither. Instead, he sheathed his sword and fixed his hair that had fallen down in the fight, tossing his Fraldarius circlet to the ground to do so.

“Glenn always did wear his hair down,” Ingrid muttered.

Felix took his sword out again and stepped toward Dimitri once more. He says something they can’t make out, but Dimitri seemed too busy raking his hands through his hair, matting it with blood to hear him.

“Look at me!” Felix roared. 

The laughter returned, billowing throughout the tomb, and Felix raised his sword at Dimitri.

“They will not let me rest,” Dimitri pleaded through laughter, twisting into sobs. The words echoed throughout the chamber, reverberating inside Sylvain’s chest. The stolen lance in the broken prince’s hand was given a renewed grasp and it’s then did Dedue finally decide to step forward, the Professor trailing close behind. 

Felix parted away for both of them but remained close, notably placing himself between Dimitri and the approaching Archbishop.

“Is anybody injured?” the Archbishop said, her melodic tone slicing through the tension in the air, bringing the group’s attention away from Dimitri and toward Annette who was clutching an arm and Ashe who was clearly holding a broken rib. It’s only as Sylvain finally exhaled, dropping his shoulders did he realize how odd it was for Felix to have his weapon out, ready to strike.

_‘--you best not be standing in my way._ ’

_‘The best we can do is stay off his path.’_

Sylvain shuddered.

* * *

Three days. Four if they’re lucky and overestimated how many Imperials had managed to sneak into the nearby towns. 

Everyone was scrambling, orders being given left and right. There was too much to be done to prepare a proper defense, yet they must. Sylvain’s experience at the border allotted him entry into the strategy meetings, while Felix and the other Blue Lions assisted with carting supplies and building barricades. 

Dimitri was relegated to his room.

Sylvain stared at the war board along with his Professor, Seteth, and Claude. Edelgard was forcing them to defend the front gate, which, despite its name, actually boasted the fewest defenses compared to the taller walls surrounding the Monastery. 

Monastery. A Church. Designed and built to be welcoming to all those downtrodden not withstand a full frontal attack from an entire army. 

_What the hell was Edelgard thinking?_

It had been decided the day prior that Claude and his Golden Deer would take up the rearguard inside the main hall and offer aerial support and fire cover when needed. The Knights would be protecting the Archbishop should the worst come to fruition and the Imperial’s break through. 

That left the Blue Lions to lead the charge. Not like Dimitri would have given them another option. In fact, he’s pretty certain there was a quiet understanding between the four of them as to why the Blue Lions were taking the lead. No one was expecting Dimitri to follow orders in his current state.

“I’ll be covering the Prince of Faerghus along with Dedue,” the Professor said, placing their pawns on the table. They hesitated before grabbing another pawn, looking towards Sylvain.

“Do it,” Sylvain said. “I don’t have to like it for it to be the right call. Felix is the right fit for the central push.” _Push,_ Sylvain shook his head, _It should be a defensive line, not a push. But we must protect the King._

They nodded, placing the fourth pawn, marking it with the crest of Fraldarius, in front of the gate. 

“Our top priority should be removing the siege equipment from the field as soon as possible,” said Seteth. “After which our aerial support will become more effective.”

“We don’t have the manpower to take down all their ballistas,” Sylvain said. The Imperial army was significantly larger than their forces inside the Monastery and the scouting reports coming in were not heartening. No amount of skill can combat sheer numbers--something Sylvain knew from experience in Sreng, and a fact his father would counter with lies. 

It also didn’t help Edelgard had taken most of the Black Eagles with her.

“We don’t need to take down their ballistas, not exactly,” Claude remarked. “A good shot from a skilled sniper or mage to take down their operators would be enough.”

“They’ll need cover,” the Professor added.

“I’m on it,” Sylvain said, marking and placing two pawns on the left flank. “Put Ingrid on the right with Annette, she’ll be able to heal as they push in.” The Professor nodded, and silently placed Mercedes in the rear central guard--they’d need the best healer on hand for their task.

No one disagreed. 

“Flayn should go with the left, I suspect they’ll have harder artillery on that side. They’ll need a stronger healer,” Claude said.

“Absolutely not, I shall not have her straying far from me,” Seteth said.

“Relax," Claude said. "We also need someone to cover that tree grove. Bound to be soldiers hiding in there. I know that’s where I’d place units.”

The Professor nodded. “You’ll be within reach if needed,” they said, waiting for his approval to place his pawn. Sylvain swore you could actually hear the gears turning in his head.

“I promise you,” Sylvain said, “I’ll be a dead man before anything happens to her.” Seteth looked at him solemnly, and then nodded to Byleth. “Her aid will be invaluable. It won’t be easy, but I’ll carve a path for Ashe--”

Ashe. 

If he’s honest, Ashe would have been a better fit to fight alongside Ingrid, but...he’s worried about the man. They shared a certain understanding that, considering current events, was going to be more valuable in interpreting and backing each other up on the battlefield than just a regular friendship between would-be knights. 

Ashe hasn’t said a word to anyone since the declaration of war. With everyone panicking and moving quickly to defend Garreg Mach most had written it off as focus, but Sylvain knew better. 

Caspar had left with Edelgard. And Ashe was devastated. 

“You’re right, it won’t be easy. Hrm…” Claude said, cutting him off. “We should have the Knights of Serios act as our first wave, pull them back after the initial line of Imperials go down and then send in the Lions. Professors Manuela and Hanneman, along with Marianne can focus on patching them up to defend the Archbishop while the rest, fresh as daisies, push onwards.” 

“Catherine won’t like that,” Seteth cautioned. 

“Good thing Thunder Catherine isn’t here then. Teach? What you think?”

The Professor placed a thoughtful hand on their chin, considering it.

“I’m certainly not opposed. Would give the flanks a better chance,” Sylvain said.

“Exactly,” Claude said. “Our focus should be getting the central forces aerial support as soon as possible. I’m certainly a skilled enough flyer, but enough rocks hurtling towards my face isn’t exactly going to make me helpful if I’m dodging constantly.”

Seteth, the only other wyvern rider in the room simply _hrmm_ ’d in agreement. 

“Then it’s settled,” the Professor said. “I’ll handle the Blue Lions. Seteth, Claude, I trust you’ll give out assignments.” They both nodded. “Right, then. Dismissed.” 

Seteth bowed low, granting the Professor a new-found respect since the Archbishop named them her second, while Claude gave a curt nod and two finger salute. 

Sylvain lingered, heart beating sadly, gazing at the pawn with the Fraldarius crest. “Sylvain,” The Professor said softly, “I think it best for you to tell him personally. He’ll fight me on it.”

Sylvain huffed, “He’ll fight me too.”

* * *

Felix sat in a chair inside the Blue Lion classroom, lounging with his feet on the desk in a moment of respite from the preparations. He stared back at Sylvain coldly, arms crossed. 

He’d been expecting him to yell, or shout after learning of his assignment, but instead he just sat, processing it. Sylvain shifted his weight, tilting his head downwards as if the new angle would grant him the ability to read his boyfriend’s mind. It didn’t. It just reminded him of the arrow lodged in his heart and pit of gloom growing in his stomach. Four days ago they were worried about seeing each other after graduation. Now they were just worried about each other staying alive. _Thanks Edelgard._

“Fine,” Felix finally said.

“Really?” Sylvain said, eyebrows lifting with surprise.

Felix sighed, “It makes sense. I’m nowhere near as good with a bow, nor a capable healer to cover the flanks. And--” he paused to rub his temples, “I’m one of the only few who will be able to keep up with the boar. Be best if our future King doesn’t perish in battle,” he spat.

“Heh, yeah, that would be…” Sylvain trailed off, not liking where it was going. 

“Besides, you’re a strong fighter. You’ll cover Ashe with ease.”

“Uhh, did you really just give me a compliment on my fighting? You literally tear into my technique any chance you get. I’m nowhere near as skilled as--” Felix stood up from his chair to suddenly kiss Sylvain. Sylvain, surprised Felix would dare kiss him in public after their track record, took half a second to realize what was happening before he sighed into the kiss, pulling him closer. 

“You’re a damn good fighter, Sylvain,” Felix said, pulling back to poke him in the chest as he spoke. “You’ll get Ashe in position and then you’ll both clear back to reinforce us in the central column.” Sylvain looked down at Felix, who was placing far too much persuasiveness in his voice than what was needed. “You’re strong. You’ve survived enough shit before this, and you’ll survive even more shit now.” _Goddess, his eyes look so sunken. Did he even sleep last night?_ He knew Felix had taken to guarding Dimitri’s bedchamber so Dedue could get some sleep, but did that mean Felix had sacrificed his own? He never did come to join Sylvain in bed the night before. 

“You’ll do what's necessary?” Felix said, tone having grown angry. It took Sylvain a moment to catch that it had been a question and that’s when it dawned upon him. _Felix is trying to convince himself I’ll be okay without him._

“Of course. I’m yours, remember? I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to you, I promise.”

“I didn’t say do ‘whatever it takes,’ I said do what’s necessary,” Felix hissed. “It is _necessary_ for you to keep yourself alive on the battlefield. No recklessly attacking, covering your reach properly, and looking where you guide your damn horse!”

“Ahh,” Sylvain hummed and tilted Felix’s chin up to his face so he could kiss him. “There’s my boyfriend. For a second I thought you’d been replaced by some compliment-giving fuzzy stuffed animal.”

“Shut up,” Felix said, hitting him lightly on the chest. “I’m serious. I can’t--” He grimaced and clenched his eyes shut. “I can’t allow myself to think...I need to know--”

“Felix. When have you ever known me to give up?”

“Tch, never. You’re the most stubborn ass--”

“--stubborn ass since mules were bred,” Sylvain finished in unison with Felix. “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. So don’t you think for a second I won’t be fighting my way to get to you.”

“Good,” Felix sighed, leaning his head to rest on Sylvain’s chest. He held him tight, smelling the top of his head, memorizing his scent for all eternity and mentally taking himself back to the first morning he woke up beside Felix. 

“Don’t go dying before me now either, okay?” he muttered into the top of his hair. Vaguely he thought of the promise they'd made each other when they were very young, wondering if Felix remembered it or if he was too young to recall.

“Tch, unlikely,” Felix huffed.

“Felix,” Sylvain scolded.

“What?” He whined.

“I’m not dying. Not when I’ve got you. You’re going to have to trust me when I say that. Although, if you still need convincing I have other-” he dipped his hand to cup Felix’s ass, “-more persuasive arguments.”

Felix scowled, “No time.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain resigned. They settled for a passionate kiss instead with Sylvain hoping he’d see him in bed tonight. Not to have sex, but just so he could hold him. 

“Hey have you seen--oh,” Ingrid said, entering the classroom. “Erm, Felix we’re ready for your help now,” she said awkwardly as they parted. 

“Right,” Felix said. “I’ll...see you later then,” he said glumly to Sylvain.

“Whoa, hey wait a second. When was the last time you slept?” Sylvain asked him.

“I’m fine,” Felix grunted.

“No way, you were up all night watching Dimitri’s door,” Sylvain accused. 

“Felix?” Ingrid said incredulously, “Is that true?”

“What? Dedue was falling asleep on the job. I’m fine. Let’s go,” Felix bemoaned. 

“No,” Sylvain said firmly. “Go to sleep, I’ll take over your duties and bring up dinner later.”

“Weren’t you in strategy meetings all day?” Ingrid led on. 

“Yeah,” Sylvain said, stretching his arms, “Which means I have more than enough energy to help build the barriers.” He didn’t. The meetings had stressed them all out of their wits to even allow room for simple math, but Felix needed this more than he did. He turned to his boyfriend, “Get thee cute scowl to slumber so it may await my many sendings of pleasurable moans at behest of the cold, scolding lips of my lover, turning thine into a warm smile upon mine treasured body.”

Felix managed to look more tired.

“Oh. My-goodness. Felix, go to bed before I EVER have to hear anything like that again,” Ingrid said dumbstruck. 

“You and me both,” he groaned, but Sylvain didn’t miss the slightest upturn of his lips while listening to his ridiculous plea. “Wipe that stupid grin off your face, that wasn’t funny and it absolutely wasn’t cute,” he snapped. 

It was challenging, but Sylvain folded his lips together and held them to stop his shit-eating grin. _My love protests too much it seems._ He filed ‘write Felix terrible flowery poems,’ away for later.

Felix, of course, rewarded him with a smile. It was tired, but pure, and sweet, and void of all the anxiety he’d just spilled to him moments prior. “I’ll grab dinner myself. See you later, idiot.”

Felix left for the dormitories while Ingrid just stood and stared at him.

“What in good heavens was that?” she asked incredulously. Sylvain opened his mouth to speak, but she made a quick movement with her hand indicating for him to shut it. “Actually, no. I regret even asking that. Let’s get moving.”

* * *

He went to Felix’s room first, giving a nod and a knowing squeeze on the shoulder to Dedue in the hallway. He would have certainly heard the news by now, but Sylvain wasn’t about to argue with him to go to bed. 

He entered Felix’s room.

 _Huh,_ he huffed amusedly seeing the empty bed and rounded right back out to the hallway, Dedue granting him a confused head tilt as Sylvain carefully opened the door to his own dormitory.

Felix was curled in his bed, like a sleeping cat tightly coiled up, still wearing his uniform and clutching his sword and sheath in both hands. Sylvain wondered if he had it in him to wake and tell him, or let him continue to rest. Selfishly he wanted to wake him just so they could have once last night together, but he doubted if even he could even focus on the task with the morning looming so close.

He shrugged off his jacket and sat down to remove his shoes as quietly as possible. _Best to let him sleep more, he’ll need it in the morning._ He got to work unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it over his head when half were undone, and unlaced his breeches. He looked at Felix and suddenly lost the will to keep going, staring at his lover’s chest breathing peacefully in and out. 

He wanted to cry. 

As if Felix had developed empathic abilities in his sleep, he stirred. “You better be Sylvain or I’ll stab you,” he mumbled and it was so endearing it actually made the tears arrive in Sylvain’s eyes.

“It’s me, no stabbing necessary.” He wiped away the single drop that had gotten away from him. Now’s not the time to be sad, not yet, not when they still have several hours to spare. Perhaps it would be more right to be selfish in this moment. “Unless you’re wanting to do a different kind of stabbing,” he flirted.

Felix made a throaty, cut off laugh. “Get over here lover boy.” He lifted an arm off his sword, beckoning him over. Sylvain saw he still had yet to even open his eyes.

“You’re going to need to move your sword--heh--unless you find Zoltan a better lay than me, then by all means I’ll take the floor,” he teased lightly.

“Move it yourself,” Felix grunted. Sylvain chuckled and stood up, walking over the short distance to take Felix’s sword from him, who _Saints above_ , let him. Felix rolled over as Sylvain crawled into bed to lie behind him, pulling him tight against his bare chest.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” Sylvain said, unbuttoning Felix’s vest with one hand.

“Mm’fine,” he said sleepily. Sylvain kissed his neck, enjoying the easy moans coming from his tired love while he freed him of his vest and shirt. His hand circled his skin, over his tight abs, teasing each loop by dipping it lower and lower towards his breeches until his fingers found the laces and pulled. “Uhh-h, _Sylvaaain,”_ Felix moaned and _Sothis’s fucking star,_ Sylvain’s pulse nearly doubled as Felix pressed his ass into his crotch. 

As if Felix had never been asleep at all, he sits up, and in one quick movement, finishes the work Sylvain had started, tossing his shirt and vest as one to the ground, and mounted him. Sylvain rolled on to his back to better accommodate him, surprised by the suddenly want. Felix hummed, or maybe purred, with delight, running his slender fingers up the trail of hair on his stomach, ending at his pecks, fondling each (Sylvain made sure to squeeze his muscles tight just for him). 

Felix grinded against him, moaning his name, thumbing around his nipples, and it was so hot. It was very hot. Extra hot. Undeniably hot. _This is super fuck hot, do you hear me body!?!?_ Sylvain mentally yelled at his dick to respond, yet it was refusing anything more than a half-salute. He grunted in frustration as Felix took to his neck, placing hot kisses along his chin.

“What do you think about,” Felix said with his very sexy voice ( _very sexy! Dick enlarging sexy! Com’on!!!)_ “A switch. I’m in the mood for it.”

“A-a-a switch?” Sylvain said nervously. He had no idea what that meant. Should he? _Shit, now he has me nervous._ He _hated_ disappointing Felix, and if he’s in the mood for it, he’s down--for whatever that is. Except now he has to worry about doing something unfamiliar with him and making it good on top of... _fuck._

Any semblance of arousal when away with that thought. He sighed, and swallowed guiltily. 

“Mhm,” Felix said sultry, licking at his jaw, having failed to notice the shift in Sylvain’s mood. “I’ll even let you help me open myself up.” Felix laid a kiss on his lips and _oh, that’s what a switch meant? Literally, to switch places. You dumbass. Well, shit, wow_ , _fuck, uhm._ That did sound _very hot,_ but Sylvain’s mind wasn’t in it anymore. All he could focus on was how little time they had left, whether he’d ever see him again, if this was their last kiss. 

Felix propped himself up to grind again, taking two pulses into his body before he figured it out. He paused, a flash of confusion going across his face as he looked down at Sylvain. “What’s wrong?”

Sylvain licked his lips, not wanting to ruin his fun. “How about I suck you off while I finger you?”

“No, how about you tell me what the fuck is going on?” he said, all the sleep-cute horny gone and the full cold, vindictive spite turned on. 

“The--ah-” Sylvain’s stomach flipped and he tried again, “The Imperial army is due to arrive in late in the morning. Scouts came back about two hours ago. Shifts were traded around so people could get some rest, we should...probably just try and get some sleep,” he admitted.

“Thought we had another day,” Felix said speechlessly.

“I know. It’s been, uh, rough few hours,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes.

“What time is it now?” The color had gone from his face, and he breathed slow, but heavily from his mounted position.

“Around four, I think?” Sylvain said. He and Claude had gone around twice to check the barriers and blockades and waited up late with the Professor to confirm the placement of the Imperial ballistas. Luckily they didn’t need to shift their strategy. 

Felix’s eyebrows shot up. 

“I really could use the sleep, even if you don’t,” Sylvain said, half-heartedly pushing Felix off of him. A hand quickly smacked into his chest, holding him firm in place.

“No,” Felix said. 

“Uh…” 

“No, I mean I’ll let you sleep-just-ah...let me look at you? Okay?” he quickly said.

“Sure,” Sylvain replied slowly, trying to shift him off once more so they could lie on their sides. Felix stopped him again. “Oh, you mean like this? Here?” Felix nodded his head. _Weird, but sure_. 

And it was weird. Having Felix mounted on top of him, staring down with his harsh gaze, without any sexual play whatsoever. He wished the room was brighter so he could at least make out his amber eyes to lessen the scrutinizing gaze, but if he had any wishes at all he wouldn’t be wasting it on that. He’d wish they could teleport their lives to another country. One without crests and with honest work for them to make a living. 

“I don’t know if I can sleep with you staring me down like a hawk,” Sylvain said.

“Could you--” Felix hesitated. 

“Could I…?”

“Smile?” 

He was confused by the request, but did so anyway. “Sure, Felix.” He’d been doing it all day anyway. Reassuring Seteth that he’d watch over Flayn, convincing Ingrid and Raphael they’d have enough wood to build all the barriers, and then later that barriers they had would be enough. He’d smiled and joked all through dinner while Ashe barely ate and Mercedes looked distant. He smiled when the scouts came back with the news and patted the Professor on the back that they’ve done all that they could to prepare.

He smiled for Felix, the love of his likely to be short life. 

“I hate that smile,” Felix sneered. 

“Uh, excuse me?” Sylvain said, taken aback. Everybody loved his smile, why else does he fucking force it all the time? “You asked for it.”

“I didn’t ask for _that_ smile. Your fake, _everything is okay when it’s clearly not_ face. The smile you throw out like it’s fucking fodder for the desprite women you call ‘dates.’ I saw that smile a dozen times each time you’d visit with a new set of bruises and breaks. I see it any time you mention your father. It’s disgusting. I hate it and I’ll hate you forever if you ever show it to me again,” he spat.

Sylvain dropped it and blinked several times, unsure of how to respond. “I’m sorry, Felix,” he said quietly. He wished he could will something more genuine for him, but everything about him was fake. _No, no, no, that’s not true. I love him and he loves me._

 _No, no,_ his demons chimed in, _he just said he’d hate you forever and ever because there isn’t a genuine bone in your ugly body._ He sighed, defeated. 

“I want to see--” Felix’s voice cracked, “--when you took me to that tower behind the Cathedral. With the glass. Or when you kissed me outside the classroom. Or right after we’d been caught. When we teased Ashe for hours in the kitchen. Or after...the first time I blew your mind. Asking me to be your boyfriend.” He took a long pause, watching Sylvain’s reaction. This had certainly shut up his demons and he listened with great interest. “When I read to you, while you were injured. You’d wake up occasionally and smile at me, but it wasn’t to reassure me that you were fine. It was just...you were happy I was there.” He caressed Sylvain’s face.

“I am happy you’re here Felix. I want you to be here forever, but I’m sorry. I can’t just...summon that. I’m not like you, I can’t reward you with my ‘real’ smile, whatever the flames that even means. I don’t know how to be me, expect for...It’s just, the way you make me feel. I feel safe and then I don’t have to think about it. You’ve always been watching out for me, even when I didn’t know it, but right now with the Imperial army I can’t…”

“I understand,” Felix said, failing to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Felix. I really, really am. I love you more than anything. I didn’t even think I’d ever feel this way about anyone, but you and your boldness just...redefined what I could be, could have, if even just for a few short months.” 

Felix tried to climb off of him, but it was Sylvain’s turn to keep him put, grabbing him by the hips. “You still have it, by the way--” Sylvain said, but Felix looked puzzled. “I mean, it’s like. When I saw how your face lit up the first night we were together, it was like...I’d always carried that with me. Since you were little and you used to cry all the time? I just wanted to make you laugh. You have the best laugh, you know that right?” Felix turned his head away in embarrassment, but Sylvain took his chin to turn him back to face him, rubbing his cheek affectionately with his thumb. “And when Glenn passed and Dimitri and Ingrid hid away, you--the part of you I had unknowingly fallen in love with--had also died, so when I’d saw it again that night,” he paused to laugh, “when you blew my brains out that first time and you’d smiled I was just, ‘wow.’ It’s _always_ been you, Fe. I’d somehow forgotten, but you’ve always been with me.”

He took Felix’s hand and placed it over his heart.

“And I’m right there,” Sylvain said, pointing a finger to Felix’s heart. “You chose to pick me up, watch over me. You placed me there, to watch over me. I didn’t know it until you told me--that you’ve been carrying me with you this whole time too? It’s wild. But that’s where my smile is. Knowing you got me. And I’ve got yours.”

Felix looked at him, having listened through his whole rambling, and grabbed the hand pointing at his own chest. He rested it just left of his sternum so Sylvain can feel the steady thrumming of his heart. His face isn’t stern, or cold; he lacked the scrutiny he often throws Sylvain’s way, but rather he once again resembled his mother. Peaceful, and caring. Loving.

They stayed like that, each others hands on their hearts, for a long enough time their breaths started to naturally sync, and its then did Felix slip off Sylvain’s hips, sliding to lie on their sides, face-to-face. 

Automatically they kissed, as if rehearsed, with no one party initiating. They kissed slow, and languid, adding no real pressure into the kiss, but instead allowing their lips to find the natural valleys and peaks. Their tongues reached out, ghosting each other’s mouths in turn, pulling them closer and closer to one another until they were completely embraced, mouth’s entwined. 

Felix pulled back to look at Sylvain, bringing his hand up to outline his mouth. It’s only from the touch does Sylvain realize he’s smiling. 

“I’ve got you,” Felix said mirroring Sylvain’s warm grin.

Too relaxed and tired to respond, Sylvain hummed. Safely in his lover’s arms, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. 

Tomorrow, to war.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, you thought the title was about Sylvain to Felix? Hahaha think again. Oh, how the turntables have turned.
> 
> What's going on with everyone else you ask? Depression and anxiety, Jan. Depression and anxiety.
> 
> Second half of this chapter is 100000% inspired by "Carried me with you" by Brandi Carlile which is more in line with the Disney motifs we got going on and also where I got the series title from. The kinda fake, kinda not, but definitely funny prologue I wrote, "I won't say it," is becoming relevant with the Felix & Dimitri interactions so if you haven't read it, I recommend doing so before the finale drops!!!! AHHH!HH!H!H!H!H!
> 
> Take care of your depression and anxiety today by taking a walk. Find a pretty plant and take a photo of it. So fucking rad the world has cool plants, right? Dedue and Bernadetta certainly think so.


	20. Worth Fighting For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious CW at the end of the end notes, just scroll to the bottom of this for them.
> 
> _Vigorously points to the canon-typical violence tag once more_
> 
> I really hope you all will enjoy this. I got to flex my dungeon master skills writing basically a whole battle for this finale. Additionally! I loved tying in all the minor breadcrumbs I've left throughout the story so far, but enough talking before I spoil things.
> 
> Endless love for you, my readers.

“BOAR!” Felix shouted across the battle. The rabid idiot had managed to cut forward past their line, losing all his defenses.

“We need to push onward,” Dedue said, not pausing to argue with him.

“Easy for you to say,” Felix huffed, shooting a bolt of lightning, hoping to take down the enemies surrounding them. He’d already taken two slices of wind magic from one of the Imperial mages on behalf of Dedue. 

“Here,” the Professor said, keeping their eye on the boar, barely turning to heal Felix’s wounds with their suspicious abilities in faith magic. “We must keep moving, the sooner we end this the better. Yuri,” they turned to the archer, “give us some cover fire, we _will_ break their line.” Yuri gave a solitary nod, lunging back and nocking and arrow in his bow. 

Together, they pressed on.

He did not think about Sylvain.

The streets would have been an advantage for them, but the buildings nearby, the ones that had held bakeries, and tea, and the old weaponry shop where Felix had found his sword, had been destroyed before they'd even left the Monastery walls. Instead of sure footing, he was now climbing through rubble, every step an opportunity to twist his ankle and become _useless._ He’d been focused on his footwork when the Professor grabbed him by the cuff and pulled him back.

“What the--!?”

Seconds later a demonic beast barreled through the building, destroying it entirely. It would have buried him alive. He readied his sword to fight the beast, seeing Ingrid from the western flank flying in to support. The Professor, however, signaled her back to where Annette should be. “We can handle this, their task isn’t yet done,” they said. The magical bombardment still hadn’t ceased. 

Neither had the boulders.

They pressed on, slaying the beast.

He did not think about Sylvain. 

“I’m running low!” Mercedes shouted as yet another countless physic spell for the boar flew through her fingers. 

“Mercedes, pull back!” the Professor rang out. They looked to Felix, “Take this, continue to cover him, I’m on the general.” They tossed him a concoction and darted over to distract Ladislava for Felix to slip past her battalion. He bounded over a fallen wall, readying a lightning strike for as soon as he’s in range of the boar. 

_Fwoosh!_

Two arrows, accompanied with the mental image of Yuri puckering his sly lips, whizzed passed him, downing a man who’d noticed his charge. Felix cursed, recognizing the fletching, confirming it had been Yuri who’d just saved his guts.

Damnit, now he’d have to make good on his deal if they made it out of here.

_If._

Anxiety pitted in his stomach, seeping the adrenaline from his system, knowing what they’d need to survive in order for him to make good on that deal.

_NO._

He focused on his target. The boar. Dedue. The Emperor. 

He pressed on.

He did not think about Sylvain. 

Dedue was too busy hammering down a lancer to see the soldier preparing to cleave the boar in two. Felix sprinted forward, lungs burning. He didn’t have time to ensure he was in range, all he knew was that he had to do it now. Lightning erupted from his fingertips, trailing forward and...it made contact, injuring and distracting the soldier long enough for the boar to spin around and separate his head from body. 

“Felix!” Dedue shouted, stepping in to cover him as Felix panted, his own body catching up to him. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this. The Imperial army began to surround them, likely attempting to separate them from their professor and the boar. Back-to-back he and Dedue sliced through opponents, with him occasionally needing to shoot magic forward to cover the boar who was attempting to clear a line all by himself. 

He hated him like this.

The boar’s whole fighting style changed when he was this way. Zero regard for his defense, all attack, all power, no stopping to allow allies to assist. Nothing like the sweet prince he'd once been enamored with.

It wasn’t that the boar wasn’t getting hit. It was that he didn’t care.

They had to break through this grouping of enemies and then he’d cram the whole concoction bottle down his throat himself if necessary.

“Western ballista is down, air support should be here momentarily!” Dedue said. It had barely registered in Felix’s mind that the constantly _whirring_ of magical bombardment had ceased. He ducked under Dedue’s axe swinging arm, darting in quickly to take down the soldier lined up behind Dedue’s target, effectively trading places all in order to check the eastern flank.

Boulders were still flying through the air.

“ _Damn it! Come on,_ ” he gritted through his teeth.

_He’s strong. He can do this._

A familiar sound encroached their position. Shreeee- _Clang-Crack!_ Four enemies go down in a single flurry from their chain blade, the Professor catching up to them finally. 

Together, they pressed on.

He did not think about--

He looked to the east to check once more, seeing yet another boulder flying and then--

A flash of a red sky. Blood-colored pins hailing downward. 

_No, he never uses that unless--_ His stomach dropped.

The Professor grabbed him by the arm, dragging him onward.

He did not think about Sylvain. 

“You all have done well to have fought your way here,” the Emperor said. “A shame to think you could have been by my side, Professor.” She turned to a dark mage, “Give my uncle the signal.”

The boar lunged forward again, lacking common sense, refusing to see the Emperor was far more guarded this time. A magical barrier sheened brightly as his body rammed into it for a fourth time, Felix having tuned out his maniacal ravings by this point. 

He turned to the Professor for orders.

The earth shook.

And the world slowed as all that Felix held dear was once again torn from him. Only this time the goddess saw fit for him to watch. 

Above them soared a beast. “Why the fuck is there a dragon!?” Felix shouted. It was aimed at the Professor, but when he looked to them for a response, they were gone, running in the direction of said dragon.

He blinked. A tall figure with white hair and black eyes teleported in across the way, hand lifted and aimed at the Professor’s back. 

The length of three heart beats.

_Ka-thump  
_

The figure smiles, and his hand turns blue with the loud whirring of magic. The pitch quickly ramps up until it bursts out of the figure's palm with a boom, quickly followed by the ringing of silence. He watches as the blue beam traverses, his mouth opening too slow to warm them; yet somehow the roar of the dragon above must have alerted them. They turn ready to deflect, but the beam hits them with such force they can’t maintain their stance, pushing them backwards and backwards and…

Gone.

_  
Ka-thump  
_

He feels a heavy weight fall on him, and he catches it on instinct; eyes still looking to the cliffs, stunned, waiting to see if they’d cut open yet another seam in reality. 

A wet, slick warmth covers his hands. Dedue is shouting, but Felix can’t hear over the ringing in his ears. He first sees the lance sticking straight from his leg, which is strange for he feels no pain in his leg. Then he looks to the body pressing against him.

_Dima._

The lance is protruding from his back, but there was more. A handaxe in his shoulder, multiple arrows with broken shafts throughout his arms and legs. 

Felix stops breathing when he sees the pool of royal blood forming at his feet. 

_Failure._

Dropping his sword to ready a small healing spell in one hand, he twists around himself to grab the concoction he’d stored in his pouch with the other.

_  
Ka-thump  
_

_Foo-whizz._ Felix’s attention pulls to the noise. Edelgard has retreated with the tall figure, warped out of the battle field. Her absence opens the field of view where new battalions of Imperial soldiers in the distance march towards them. 

He recognizes it instantly, the dumb teal and burgandy braided bridle standing out from the black hair of the mare, and with it, he stops living. 

Sylvain’s horse gallops across, hind area covered in blood, riderless.

The ringing in his ears dies down, the sound of the battle clamoring back to him with a whoosh just in time for him to hear the concoction bottle smashing to pieces on the ground.

Dimitri’s body is lifted off his leg and Dedue is shouting at him to retreat.

He looks to the east.

Boulders are still flying. 

Yuri runs in, hooking his bow over his shoulder, a healing spell already on his hands. “We need to get out of here!” He shouts, pouring everything he has into their dying King. “Hey!”

Boulders are still flying. 

Felix picks up his sword.

“Hey! Arg, Dedue, I’m sorry, just take him back to Manuela. Hey! Felix!”

They pull back.

Felix stands still.

He thinks of Sylvain. 

Dead.

Yuri grabs him by the shoulder. “Felix! Snap out of it!” 

“Dimitri,” Felix says softly.

“Will be fine. You have my assurance.” He looks off into the distance, seeing the horse Felix still stared at. “I’m sure he’s still out there, fighting. I won your bargain, which means you _both_ still owe me a show” He leans in and places a wet kiss on his cheek. “So get out there and find that glorious ass!” He grunts and pushes him eastward. 

The bells of retreat ring out from the tower.

Felix stumbles initially, not expecting the push, but quickly forms into a sprint.

His only thought: Sylvain.

* * *

Sylvain patted the hidden pouch containing the three vials in what was becoming an increasingly obvious nervous tick as they waited for the word on the battle happening outside the gates. He shouldn’t have the extra concoctions. They were meant for someone on the front lines most likely, but Sylvain did it anyway. Anything necessary to get back to Felix, like he’d promised.

It felt like he’d been flirting for his life, trying to get Anna to part with the vials. In the end, he’d been successful, but if she were to ever find him again he’d be in _big, big_ trouble considering the kind of promises he’d made. 

The halls were mostly quiet save for Flayn’s peaceful humming and the occasional _shnk!_ from Catherine’s whetstone, and if Sylvain craned his neck far enough around the corner he could just barely make out Felix, back turned to him, waiting with the rest of the central column. This too had become a nervous tick while they waited. He knew Felix knew he was here, but not once had he turned to see him.

Maybe that was for the best; to focus on the task ahead. 

“You good there, Ashe?” He said to the archer. Ashe had been twirling the same arrow for the past forty minutes, staring a hole into the wall while they waited for the Imperials to breach the walls. 

“Mm, yeah. We’ll get it done,” he responded without having really heard what Sylvain had said. Least he _was_ responding now, Sylvain supposed. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in the days of preparations.

“Hey,” Sylvain said, getting close enough to him so the others wouldn’t overhear. “I’m sure we won’t encounter him, and even if we do, I have your back--whatever happens.”

For the first time in two days, Ashe looked up to meet his eyes. The combined angle with the circles under his eyes aged him by an entire decade with the single glance, completely eroding away the boyish charm he was known for. 

“I will-” Ashe quickly glanced over to Catherine. _Shit, maybe stationing her with us was a bad call._ “-do what’s required of me,” he said mechanically. His gaze returned back to the same spot he’d been staring at, arrow still mindlessly twirling in his hand. “A-as a knight,” Ashe finished, but the words lack the moxie he was known for. 

Beyond the walls a two tone trumpet sounded, signaling the arrival of the Imperial army. Sylvain walked over to mount his horse, feeling at ease atop her back. He’ll be of more use from here than he had been back in the Holy Tomb.

“Ha, ha!” Catherine shouted. “I’m ready for you, Imperial army. Protect the Archbishop for me with your lives while I’m gone, would yeah? Shouldn’t take long.” She gave Thunderbrand a twirl and leapt over the barricade, charging in. 

The forty minutes they’d been waiting for them to show was nothing compared to the minutes they waited for Catherine’s return. Sylvain’s mare side stepped anxiously, sensing the nearby battling. “Shh, girl,” he patted her. 

“Ah! Catherine!” Flayn spotted her first, readying a healing spell. She had an arrow in her shoulder, and was clutching a wound on her thigh, grimacing as she made her way around the barrier. Sylvain shook his head at her.

“No, save it for later. Marianne will heal her. Ashe, help me pull her in,” Sylvain said. 

“I’m fine!” She bellowed. “Get out there already!”

* * *

_Tink-tink-tink-tink-tink!_

A hail storm of arrows broke on Ashe’s raised shield. “They’re still raining down!” he reported.

“I can hear that just fine, thanks Ashe!” Sylvain shouted back over the noise of barrage. Their advancement had been halted by a stationed general about halfway up their push. Sylvain had managed to almost take them down, when the magical stronghold triggered and healed the Imperial mage. By then backup had arrived and forced them into a temporary retreat into a nearby destroyed building. Their ‘fortress’ had been someone’s home before the townsfolk had been evacuated. It was missing two of its exterior walls, and the roof was missing, but the second floor was still intact granting them cover. 

Flayn was busy patching Sylvain up while Ashe kept a lookout. 

“Any openings?” Sylvain shouted, as he calmed his horse.

“Perhaps trekking around a different path, through the woods?” Flayn provided. Sylvain grimaced. He’d be slowed down on horseback inside that, making it easier for the enemy to spot them.

“They’ve got a consistent barrage going,” Ashe reported more succinctly. “I don’t think we can push through there.”

A scream towards the woods pulled their attention.

“Fa-brother!” Flayn cried. She just about darted off in that direction, but managed to stop herself to look towards Sylvain and Ashe, a plea in her eyes.

“Go, see if he’s okay and come back. We’re stuck here anyways,” Sylvain said. “If he’s still in fighting condition, bring him back to assist us, yeah?”

Flayn nodded, and ran off. 

They waited.

And waited. 

She did not return. 

“Okay, Ashe,” Sylvain said. They had to get through the barrage, stop the ballistas. They needed to get the central column air support. He gave his horse and anxious pet, hugging her around the neck, enjoying her scent once last time. She's been one of the better horses he's had. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to go in shield up, draw their fire. I’ll be quick enough to disorientate their aim, disperse their ranks, but after that I’ll likely be on foot. You use that opportunity to snipe out the enemy out, yeah?”

“Sylvain I--”

BOOM CRASH THUDTHUDthudthudthud--

Everything went dark.

“Sylvain!” Ashe cried, and coughed. 

“Arg-over….here,” Sylvain moaned. A boulder must have struck their hideout, the building collapsing on them, pinning them in place. Something had hit him hard in the shoulder, knocking him off his horse.

“This must be one heck of a support wall, we’re lucky-- _cough--_ we weren’t crushed instantly,” Ashe said, climbing over the rubble to find Sylvain. “I still can’t see much, can you keep talking?”

“Yeah, I-” he paused, panicked that he wasn’t near his horse and couldn’t hear her, “-hang on I can get us some light.” He pulled off his right gauntlet and created a magic circle, summoning a small ball of fire in his hand. Instantly relief ran over him. His horse was fine, standing stupidly like nothing had happened near the still standing wall. 

“Ah-- _cough--_ there you are. Are you okay?” Ashe said, adrenaline coursing through him.

“Yeah, I ah…” He pulled himself up, shoulder aching deeply, but nothing seemed out of sorts. “Just hit the ground pretty hard. You alright?”

“I-- _cough, cough_ \--think-- _cough_ \--so,” Ashe said, but with the light Sylvain could see he was coughing up blood. 

“ _Shit,_ you must have punctured something,” Sylvain said, rummaging around his body to see if he still had the vials. Hopefully his own body hadn’t smashed them to pieces when he landed.

“Really-- _cough_ \--I’m-” He couldn’t get any more words out, coughing continuously with more blood spewing with it. _Shit, shit, shit_ , Sylvain panicked, and found the vials he’d secretly stashed.

“Drink this, Ashe, try not to cough as you do so.” He handed the vial over, shaky hands grasping it. He was seizing for air, but managed to take down the magical tincture in one go. Ashe sighed, feeling the effects, the coughing subsiding for now. He’d still need serious time with a healer later.

With Ashe taken care of, Sylvain turned to their surroundings. They still had the supporting ground wall, but the ceiling and second floor wall had toppled down on them, effectively caving them in. 

“I...think we’re buried. Hah,” Ashe weezed, beginning to laugh. Sylvain took the flame to him, gut wrenching hard, worried Ashe was about to break like Dimitri had. He had his head in his hands now, shaking with muted laughter. 

“Ashe…?”

Ashe flung his head backwards, landing against the wall, and slid down it until he was seated on the ground. He let out one last wheezing ‘ha’ and dropped his head hanging low. “What are we doing, Sylvain?” he asked.

“We’re getting out of here, taking down the ballista. Com’on, stand up Ashe, help me find a way out.” He couldn’t let his friend’s morale break now. They were stuck together and they’d need to get out together. 

“That’s not what I meant. I meant, why are we even fighting? This isn’t our fight,” Ashe said, gaining more clarity. 

“Of course it’s our fight. Edelgard attacked _us_ in the Tomb, remember?”

“No, she just wanted the crest stones and _we_ happened to be there. Just because we’re students at the Academy doesn’t mean...doesn’t mean we’re _with_ the Church. This shouldn’t be our fight.”

“She made it our fight, Ashe. Get up.”

“Caspar asked me to go with him,” he said distantly.

_Whoa, wait, what?_ Sylvain had thought Ashe was messed up because Caspar had left, and had done so without saying goodbye. This, however...this was requiring a far more in depth conversation than time was allowing them, but he needed Ashe’s help in order to get out of here so he sat down next to him, fire in his hand crackling.

“Let me guess, you’re regretting that now.”

“I am,” Ashe said, fire flickering in his silver eyes. “Tell me, Sylvain, would you have gone? If it were Felix who had asked you? Would you have turned back on your word?”

“As far as I’m concerned, my word belongs to Felix and Felix alone. I wouldn’t be turning back on anything at all.”

Ashe looked down. “But that’s not true at all. Forgive me if I’m misunderstanding, but if you hate your family so much, your crest, why didn’t you just run away? What is it that you owe them? That you give your loyalty for?”

“Because--it’s just...it’s more complicated than that, okay?” He does not have time to unpack his childhood right now.

“Is it? What if it didn’t need to be?” Ashe asked pleadingly. Sylvain answered him with a look that said ‘ _don’t be so naive.’_

“No, I read her manifesto. Caspar gave it to me,” Ashe said, biting his lip. “It talked about all the misdeeds the Church has done. She wants to build a world where people are valued for their abilities and talents, not their blood or birth status,” he said, turning to look at Sylvain meaningfully. “Seriously, Sylvain, what are we fighting for, if not that?” he said, voice pure desperation. The pause was long enough that Ashe was actually expecting an answer from him.

“I--I….” Sylvain looked down, uncertain, and deeply unsettled. This was just the thing they had to do, as expected of them. From the age of three he’s had a lance in his hands, been told to stand tall and proud for he was a Gautier and a man of Faerghus. Defend his House, defend his country, defend the Church, in that order.

“The Church murdered my father, my brother. What is it that I am owing to the Church for that? Will I be buried underneath their lies of convenience?” He looked up, “Or have I already?” He started chuckling again.

Sylvain was really wishing Ashe had had this identity crisis the day before and not now in the middle of a battle. Not when Felix was out there, relying on them to get them air support.

“Ashe, we fight for what we think is right. We’re going to get out of here. You’re going to help me help Felix, and then...you get out of here. Find Caspar. Do whatever in Flames you need to do. You don’t have to stay. I won’t judge you,” Sylvain said with a profound amount of sincerity. 

“You won’t?” Ashe said with a glimmer to his voice.

“Never,” Sylvain said with a smile. “But we seriously need to get out of here first.”

“Well then,” he said, standing up to dust off his pants. “I think I saw an opening near where I landed and hey, Sylvain?”

“No need to thank me yet, Ashe,” Sylvain bemoaned. 

“Wasn’t going to,” he mocked, turning to show Sylvain what would have been the damn cutest shit-eating grin he’s ever seen if not for the blood smeared around his lips. “What I was going to say,” Ashe said, climbing over large chunks of wall that Sylvain _thinks_ he’ll be able to coax his mare over. “Is this: I won’t judge you either, if you do the same.”

_If I do the same? What? Join the Empire? Run off with….Felix…._ Sylvain shakes his head, he can’t be thinking about his fantasies right now, not when they had a task at hand.

_‘You’re strong.’_ Felix’s words rang through his head as he used the Lance to pry and dislodge the rubble.

“I see some movement!” a voice from outside rang. It was enough warning for Sylvain to pull up a shield as the rubble gave way, light stinging his eyes.

_Tink-tink-tink!_

Arrows collided with his shield, but Ashe was quick, crouching next to Sylvain and loosing two arrows. How on earth he was able to see anything let alone aim, was beyond Sylvain. Ashe was someone who people constantly underestimated, but who Sylvain rightfully respected and at times, feared.

_Thud-thud_

Whoever was outside went down from Ashe’s deadly precision. Sylvain whistled for his horse, who beautifully managed to climb through and over the tight space and--Sylvain groaned. _Goddess, I’m really going to miss this horse._

“We have an opening,” Ashe whispered. Sylvain removed his shield, and proceeded to bash the rest of the rubble out of the way to make space for his horse. 

“Give me a three second lead, then come in. Don’t cover me, just take them out,” Sylvain said. Ashe nodded. 

With that, he mounted his horse, rounded the corner of the destroyed building and charged.

A swordmaster was moving in to check on her dead allies, but wasn’t expecting a horse. Sylvain reared back, hooves meeting her chest, and trampled her down. It’s unlikely she’s dead, but Sylvain needed to keep his speed. By now, the mage on the stronghold had to have heard and he lifted up his shield in preparation. 

The mage turned, hands readying what Sylvain recognized as sagittae. Two more mages behind him readied miasma projectiles, all aimed at him. He smirked. “Got you right where I want you.” He circles the Lance menacingly, it’s faintly glowing red encouraging him onwards.

The miasma went off first, and he deftly maneuvered his horse sideways, opening up the perfect shot for Ashe who should be behind him.

The anticipated arrow flew and landed square inside one of the dark mage’s eyes, going down immediately. Sylvain continued his rush, battle cry ringing loudly, Lance pulsating in his hand. Another arrow whizzes, this time on his left, hitting the fortified mage in the shoulder. Sylvain had been mentally tracking the sagittae spell, calculating where he’d expect it to land so he could dodge. Unfortunately, Ashe’s arrow knocked the mage slightly backwards right as the spell went off with Sylvain dodging right into the attack’s unexpected flight pattern. The magical arrows pierced into all points of his body, completely ignoring his armor, his organs seizing. He cried out in pain, but his horse-- _goddess, this horse_ \--kept on until he was within rage to attack the second dark mage, slashing the down with one easy stroke. He turned to the fortified mage, seeing more arrows decorating his body, and finished the deed with a downward spike before the magical fortifications could trigger. 

He looked to Ashe, watching his intensity quickly drop as he looked back at the great knight. “Sylvain!” he cried. “Let me find Flayn, you need to be healed!”

“No time,” he remarked, taking out the second concoction and downing it. “Need to keep going.” Ashe didn’t argue with him, merely jogging up to close the space between them. 

They pushed on.

He did not think about why he’s fighting.

“Incoming, left!” Ashe cried. Sylvain directed his horse right as a fourth? fifth? he’s lost count now--boulder hit the ground. Their scouts had spotted them and the ballista, hidden behind a stone wall, was aiming to take them out. With Ashe’s eagle eye, however, they’d managed to dodge them all with ease. 

“Incoming, straight!” Sylvain veered left. _Boom-ka-_ "Ahh!”

Sylvain reared his horse to look where he’d heard Ashe’s scream. A quick assessment showed the boulder had bounced unexpectedly when it hit the ground, smashing Ashe’s leg. He was on the ground clutching it and very much so out in the open. 

Without thinking Sylvain chucked him the last concoction. “Get to cover, I’ll hold them down!” He circled back, charging forward, clashing weapons with an axe wielder, spurring his horse to trample the ground beneath him for assisted evasion. The axe collided with his armor, ricocheting the enemy’s arm backwards, opening them up for Sylvain to reach across his body and plunge his lance through. In his periphery he caught a fireball hurtling towards him. He ducked low, hugging his horse the best he could and felt the hot heat against his back, narrowly missing. Unfortunately the low position drove the Lance further into the soldier’s body, one of the writhing tendrils catching inside their breastplate. Sylvain went to retract it, meeting resistance and his foe saw an opportunity. With their final breaths, they grabbed onto the Lance, holding him in place in a fierce tug-of-war.

_‘Cover your reach.’_ Felix's words rang through the back of his head, heat climbing up the back of his neck; his lover’s words turned prophecy.

Sylvain had never reattached his right gauntlet after escaping the rubble, too distracted by Ashe and getting out, leaving his forearm exposed. It was a sitting duck, stuck trying to pull the Lance back, giving enough time for an enemy archer to line up a shot.

The arrow lodged perfectly between the two bones in his forearm.

“ _Yee-ah_!” He reeled back in pain, letting go of the Lance. The muscles in his hand weren’t responding, he couldn’t grip. Grimacing he scooped the reins up with his right arm, holding it barely in the nook of his elbow, and ripped the Lance from the axe wielder with his off hand, killing them. 

He spurred his horse on, badly dodging projectiles, hoping she had the sense of direction of where Sylvain wished her to go, and, for the most part she did. He managed to take down the archer who’d gotten him right as another boulder struck the ground, nearby. The impact distracted him, a fireball colliding into his back. Thankfully his armor seemed to minimize much of the damage. That, or it had been a really weak spell. He pulled the reins weakly, trying to get his mare to turn so he could face the mage. She turned too wide and her hind legs buckled against the trenched ground from the impacted boulder, falling to the ground with Sylvain mounted. 

The weight of the horse crushed his leg, and while he managed to maintain a hold on the Lance, he was pinned. The horse's legs flailed as he tried to push her up with his good arm when something hard on the ground snapped his ankle between it and his horse. “ _FUCK! AHHhh,_ ” he shouted. He looked up to check his surroundings, the mage was preparing a high power kill spell and walking towards him. Behind them, two swordmasters appeared.

“I got this one. Search the woods, the archer still remains,” the mage instructed. 

“NO!” Sylvain shouted. He couldn't die here. He had to get back to Felix, help Felix. And Ashe...he deserved to find his happiness more so than Sylvain ever did. He had to make it out. If they could both just make it out, find their loves, and then...then what? 

No, right now that didn’t matter. Getting out did. Through any means necessary. 

He bared his teeth, lifting the Lance of Ruin into the sky. It pulsed with his cry, Sylvain’s consciousness dipping into it without choice. He reached his possessed finger into the sky, cutting a seam into it, needing not one, but three, each aimed above His enemies. 

From the tears, the sky bled red, the entire surroundings basking in the red glow of the Ruined Sky. His enemies balked at the foreign sight, eyes fixated towards the heavens. Gautier strengthened the grip on the Lance, sitting upright as much as he could beneath the fallen horse, grimacing and screaming in pain to pull the pins of death down upon his would-be killers. ~~His hand~~ The Lance creaked under the pressure, raining down the high volume of carnage, feeling like ~~his bones~~ the Lance would snap apart at any moment. 

The mage was annihilated almost instantly, replaced by a mist of blood amongst the red atmosphere filling his lungs with the iron scent. One of the swordmasters dodged to safety while the other took a pummeling of several pins, hitting the ground, nerves twitching their body long after death. 

He breathed heavily, adrenaline coursing through his body, easily ignoring the pain in his arm, leg, and the ankle that was definitely broken. Distant shouting from the enemy indicated more were on their way, and his horse finally got to her feet, bolting off into the distance as soon as she could. He used the lance to help himself upright, baring his weight all on one leg and looked to the remaining enemy.

“Well come on there, pretty. I saved this last dance for you,” Sylvain said in a mockery of his own voice.

She charged him, sword in hand; Sylvain a sitting target. He’d need to make this count. 

Slowly tensing his right hand, muscles screaming, he gripped the Lance with both hands, blood seeping from the arrow wound and he exhaled, readying himself. Already he could see she was lunging forward to strike on his injured left, non-weight bearing side. It would instantly topple him back down to the ground, but he was anticipating this strategy from her. 

He was already in a lot of pain. 

If Miklan had taught him anything it was this: what’s a little more? 

He extended and planted the broken ankle in front of her charge, white hot pain shooting up it, tripping her. The butt of the Lance thrusted into her gut, winding her as he spun around, shifting the Lance to bring down its point into her back. 

She fell as he removed the Lance, thick crimson blood dripping from the tip. Hobbling forward, the adrenaline in his system faded when an enormous beasital roar erupted from the sky. He looked up to see a white winged beast. “Holy shit, a dragon,” he panted. 

“Sylvain!” Ashe’s cry came from behind him, sounding like a warning. He turned quickly, but it was too late. 

The swordmaster beneath him had not a quick death and was still breathing enough to plunge her sword up into the unguarded inner part of his right thigh. 

“ _Nnhnn--Ah!_ ” Sylvain cried, dropping to the ground. A arrow hit his stealthful assailant in the throat, light leaving her eyes. 

“Sylvain!” Ashe ran up to him. “Oh gosh, oh.” His eyes widened at the wound Sylvain had taken. With the amount of blood spilling, it had definitely hit something major. Ashe dropped to the ground, taking off his leather armor.

“Ashe, no...more are...coming,” he said, breath labored, in shock. 

“Just hang on! We need to stave the bleeding.” He took off his shirt, ripping it into strips with his teeth. Sylvain reached over with his left arm, unbinding the piece of armor, which proved to be a mistake. He groaned and dropped backwards, lying down, while Ashe wrapped his leg and reapplied his armor, tightening the leather strap far beyond what was comfortable. Not that comfortable really mattered. 

Arms hooked under his armpit and he was being dragged backwards nearly lacking enough wits to remember to grab the Lance.

“Ashe…”

“I’m getting you to cover, then I’ll find a healer, okay? Stay with me, Sylvain. Keep talking.”

He thinks about why he’s fighting.

He closes his eyes.

“Sylvain!” 

He jolts with a inhale as Ashe jostles him awake again. 

“Ashe...what...what _are_ we doing? I’m so stupid, Ashe,” Sylvain mumbles.

“Yup,” Ashe groans, unaccustomed to dragging someone as heavy as Sylvain through the woods, away from the fighting. “The biggest idiot I know. And you’ll keep on being that idiot after this, you hear me?”

“No, Ashe. I should have...should have run away, when I had the chance. Taken Felix with me. Fuck...the consequences….We don’t……...we shouldn’t….” It’s getting colder and harder to talk. He wishes he was in bed with Felix again. Maybe if he closes his eyes, he can be there right now.

“Shouldn’t what, Sylvain? Keep talking to me, alright?” Ashe places him against a tree, impact forcing him awake again.

“Shouldn’t have to do this.”

“No, I’m going to find you a healer, Sylvain. But you need to stay awake, okay? Keep talking, babble, sing, it doesn’t matter. Just-” He looks back to Sylvain’s leg and goes white. Pacing back and forth, he panics, trying to formulate some sort of plan until he stops and places his face into his hands and screams, “ _Fuck_ \--FUCK. Stay awake, Sylvain! I--I--I--” He looks at him with his big doe eyes, wet with tears and pulls Sylvain’s head in close for their foreheads to meet. Hot wet lips meet his cold forehead; partnered with a choked sob Ashe whispers, “Just stay awake.” Then he turns, and sprints off.

Bells are ringing in the distance. Are those the ones signalling retreat? Or surrender? He can’t tell, they seem...too layered. He looks to his leg, soaked in blood and realizes his situation. 

It’s not good.

Biting his lip he attempts to form the rudimentary white magic circle with his off hand that Manuela had shown him. It sputters in and out and the more he tries to concentrate, the more his hand shakes. He drops it, cursing himself.

“Fe, I’m sorry,” Sylvain says, staring up through the canopy of leaves. The ballista is still shooting off boulders. He never got them the air support.

“Maybe you’re already dead….what if I’m just heading off to meet you?” He laughs, wincing at the pain it brings.

_Did he perish protecting the King, like his brother before him?_

“Goddess, you’d hate that,” he mutters.

_Maybe he got in his way and Dimtiri stopped him just like he’d promised inside the Tomb,_ Sylvain wonders, the noise of the skull crushing in his hand still bouncing around his head.

“You’d hate that too.” 

He tries to breath slowly, but can’t manage the impossible feat. “You should have died by my side, in my arms,” he labors.

“Think the goddess would welcome us in? Heh, you’d be a shoo-in. But me?” His eyelids are feeling too heavy, and he can no longer feel his right arm, but it brings no relief. “You’d follow me to the Eternal Flames though, wouldn’t you.” It’s cold, and his lungs don’t even feel like they’re breathing anymore, sips of air only passing through him. He vaguely recalls Ashe telling him to sing and with that thought a tune from his times at the border pops into his mind; one about a lass who guides her man to the goddess’s home in the heavens.

“You’d pull me up from the Flames, wouldn’t you, just like the lass, you stubborn fool,” Sylvain grunts. He mentally twists the tune around in his head, morphing it to fit Felix. It was meant to be a song of mourning, for a fallen companion, sung whenever they’d return a body home. Was he singing it for Felix? Perhaps he was singing it for himself; it was so cold he might as well be in Sreng.

Regardless, he sings, unsure if his lips were really moving:

_“There be his lad;_

_With the raven hair;_

_Now, here to his aid;_

_On his dying bed._

_From the Flames does his lad;_

_O’er pull him along, does he now;_

_To Her land up above;_

_With his smiling love.”_

The visage of Felix is too much for him, and he closes his eyes, climbing back into their warm bed to be beside his love.

“-ain!”

His lover’s hand is warm, and it caresses his face. He wants to lean into his touch, into those slender fingers and kiss them, but falls back asleep instead. He’ll kiss him in the morning.

“-you, Sylvain.”

His body hurts. Hurts far too much. And it’s cold. Why does Felix always steal the blankets? He wants to roll over, steal them back, cuddle against his love, but he hurts and that sounds difficult to do. So he falls back asleep instead.

“-ease...Please….”

Felix is crying. No, no, no, no that’s wrong. Felix shouldn’t cry. Not allowed. It’s Sylvain’s job to make sure Felix doesn’t cry. He should be laughing, smiling, with no worries in the world.

Sylvain’s tired, freezing, and in pain, but nothing matters to him more than the need to stop Felix’s tears from flowing. He searches around. Where is he? Why isn’t he in bed? Wasn’t he in bed when he climbed in?

He opens his eyes.

The first thing he sees is not the white linens of his bed, but the leaves of the trees above him blowing in the wind. It could have been any ordinary day. And for a second it was. But then the sounds of soldiers shouting and weapons clashing in the distance fill in. 

And then, of course, there’s Felix crying silently over him. 

The whole side of his body is covered in blood, and Sylvain thinks there’s something akin to the shape of a bloody handprint pressed into his shoulder. His hair is still neatly and tightly set in stark contrast to his face which is smattered with dust, grime, and sweat. Grasping more at this reality, Sylvain sees his amber eyes are set, and serious in spite of the tears flowing from them. He’s focusing on... _oh damn._

The memories come back to him. Taking down the last swordmaster, getting sliced in the thigh, Ashe pulling him to cover...

Felix is beside him, on his knees, churning healing spell after healing spell into the large gash. As soon as one completes, his hands quickly tut into forming the next. His face is tired, beaten, cut, and bruised, but above all it is in shock.

He looks like a Saint.

“You look like shit, babe,” Sylvain barely eeks out.

“Sylv-ain!” Felix cries, voice breaking and turning to him, eyes wide. A hand crusted with blood caresses Sylvain’s cheek, the relief spreading across Felix’s lips into a smile. _Good, that’s how he should look. Happy._

Job done, he closes his eyes again. 

They open with a startle. His face hurts...was he just slapped? His mouth is dry, but he isn’t as cold as he was before, so that's something. 

“You need to stay awake. You can’t keep passing out on me,” Felix says.

“ _Nnah_ \--what happened? Where’s Ashe,” he says weakly.

“I haven’t seen Ashe,” he says, still concentrating on his leg. _Saints, how deep did that wound go?_

“My ankle’s busted, I can’t--walk. Horse. Fell.” Sentences were proving too challenging to form. “Professor?”

“Dead.”

Syvain blinked. “What.”

“Witnessed it myself, some super charged magical beam. Pushed them off a cliff. They’re gone.”

“Dimitri?”

Felix’s eyes divert away, trying to hide something. Was it guilt? 

“Felix,” Sylvain tries again, anxiety pressing him more alert. “That’s a lot of blood on you.”

“I--I don’t know. He was badly wounded. Almost as bad as you. Dedue and Yuri took him. I ran off to find you.” The healing spell he was working on settles. “I think that’s the best I can do for your leg. You’ve...lost a lot of blood. I can’t do anything about bones with my ability--what else besides the arrow?”

“Weren’t you barely casting healing spells just a month ago?”

“I studied. Clearly it paid off,” Felix says.

Sylvain collapses back onto the forest ground, looking at the sky. “Where’s the Imperial army? Shouldn’t we be getting stabbed to death or something?” He looks to Felix, seeing a clear cut mix of concern and annoyance. Sylvain sighs, and answers his impatient question. “Shoulder.”

“Again?” He says, not annoyed with him, but rather the situation.

“No, the other one. Building collapsed on us--you--you sure you didn’t see Ashe? He was just here with me before I--”

“Did he abandon you?” Felix says with murderous intent.

“No, he said he was going to get...help...actually,” Sylvain trails off, pulling back the memories. They had had an important talk and he is slowly realizing that this too, is their opportunity. 

“I don’t know what the Imperials are up to, but since the retreat bells started ringing, they’ve let off,” Felix supplies, but Sylvain is still churning over the conversation he’d had with Ashe. What’s the point of all this if he isn’t fighting for the future he wants?

He stares at the sky while Felix assesses his battered shoulder. 

The dragon is gone. Did he imagine it? “Fuck. Fuck this, Fe. I...I don’t want to die like this…this--”

“--you’re not dying--”

“--this... _caricature_ ,” Sylvain spits, the word having finally come to him. “I don’t even know why I bother with it. Where it ends and I begin. Mystery, but not to you.”

“Only because you let me close enough,” Felix says shyly. 

“I love you. Run away with me,” Sylvain says with the desperation of a dying man. His heart pounds in his chest as he says it. He’s never wanted anything more in his entire life.

“Idiot, you’re delirious.”

“No,” he pushes his arm aside. “I’m serious. I think about it every time I’m with you. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it. But Felix, the Professor’s dead. Dimitri’s too ill to take the throne and you know it. And, look around you, the Church is fucked, the Kingdom with it. This is a losing battle.” Felix looks offended at the comment, but Sylvain presses on. “We don’t owe anything to them, to our families. Run away with me. Let everyone think we’re dead so we can actually live our lives how _we_ want to. Felix, I love you. Run away with me.”

“We can’t just--”

“We can.” He cups Felix’s face with his good hand. “We’ll have a small farm and I’ll write you bad poetry every day just so I can watch your face squirm in delight as I read you it, and you could take on mercenary jobs, or train the local kids. Flames, we could even adopt a few as we get older. Felix, we could get _married_ and no one would protest. We’d be no-names, just living our lives. But it _has_ to be _now_ . Before anyone spots us. The Imperial army is _here_. People won’t notice two vagabonds heading west through Adrestia.”

“West? What, to Albinea?”

“Yeah!” Sylvain says, jubilant Felix seems to be entertaining the idea. “Or we go south, to Morfis. Flames, even Almyra. Anything you want, Fe. Anything. Just come with me,” he pleads.

Felix goes quiet, and Sylvian lets him tend to the rest of his wounds while he ruminates. He grimaces as Felix pulls the arrow from his arm and nearly passes out again, but the warm rush of healing magic keeps him conscious. 

“We don’t have food, and you can’t walk,” Felix eventually says.

“I can ride. We’ll grab some horses--”

“We have no money. Where would we sleep? We’d need packs and--”

“Felix, stop it, just stop. Are you coming with me?” He says with great urgency. A weight presses into his chest as he waits for Felix to answer. For all the pain he’s in, this is by far the most prominent. He’s certain that this, not the physical wounds, might very well be the thing to kill him once and for good. If he says no, he’ll resign his life forever away to his father’s will. Nothing would ever, could ever stand up to what they could have right now.

Felix is still thinking too hard on the subject, biting and rolling his lip between his teeth. 

“I’m not going to Albinea,” he mummers. “Food’s too sweet.”

“Felix?” Sylvain says hopeful. “Is that a yes?”

“Almyra’s too warm,” he reasons.

“Felix, I’m serious. You can’t fuck with me right now. Do you want to go to Morfis with me?”

Felix looks him in the eyes and for the first time since Sylvain’s regained consciousness does he look like himself. His amber eyes sparkle and the corners of his mouth creep upwards. “Say it,” he commands.

“I love you.”

His teeth shine bright and the tiniest of nods begin. “And I--”

“FELIX! SYLVAIN!”

They look up to the sky where Ingrid, mounted on her pegasus, bellows down to them.

“IS HE ALIVE?” She shouts to Felix. 

_Not anymore._

Felix turns back to Sylvain, eyes full of sorrow and Sylvan can’t bear to look. He closes his eyes, allowing a single tear from each eye to fall. Their one chance, gone.

“I’m sorry,” Felix whispers to him.

“I’m sorry too,” Sylvain says, dying. 

“We’ll get through this, together. I’m not letting go of you,” Felix says, in a piss-poor attempt to reassure him. 

Ingrid lands near by and dismounts, running up to them.

“Felix! Thank the goddess you’re okay. Yuri said you’d run off. Is Sylvain, is he--?”

_He’ll hate you forever,_ his demons remind him.

“Forgive me,” Sylvain whispers quickly to Felix and then cocks his face into his most reassuring faux smile he has. Louder, and with a charming cavalier tone, he says to her, “Dead. I’m afraid so, Ingrid. Imperials killed me before you ever got the chance.”

“Oh, you idiot! You know I’d never want that,” she cries and comes in to inspect them. Felix is still kneeling above him, looking down at him, a stunned look in his eyes that for once is unreadable by Sylvain. _Maybe he’s dying beside me as well._

“Dedue and Mercedes are preparing a cart to take us all home. His Highness is fairing okay, all things considered, but will need rest. Seteth and Flayn are unaccounted for, but we have reports they’re alive somewhere. Ashe is--Sylvain where’s Ashe?”

“Oh, uh,” he stumbles, and drops the smile, considering what he’s about to do. Maybe he and Felix were not destined for freedom, but maybe Ashe and Caspar still could find theirs. “He’s dead...building collapsed on us and, uh, only I made it out.” Felix throws him a confused, angry look, but after a moment realization dawns on him. 

“Fuck,” he says.

“Indeed,” Ingrid says mournfully, unaware of what he’s truly mourning. 

###  **Epilogue**

The ride back to Faerghus had only been slightly perilous at the beginning. Unable to walk, Dimitri and Sylvain had been relegated to the covered cart, while those who could still fight warded off any Imperials who came their way. 

The first evening together Mercedes had said some beautiful words for Ashe while they camped around the fire. Ingrid and Annette cried. Dedue had looked particularly pained, but eventually needed to step away and take Dimitri off to the side when he'd started muttering about avenging him as well. When it came time for Sylvain to say something, having been with him when he “perished,” he had mumbled through something about him being in a place where he could be happy. 

Felix said nothing.

The second day of travel had those heading west peeling off from the group. Mercedes had patched up Dimitri and Sylvain one last time before she departed with Annette with sorrowful goodbyes and a promise to meet again. Ingrid had sworn to stay with Dimitri until he was returned to the capitol before returning home herself and stayed with them, heading north. 

The latter half of the second day had been a struggle. Dimitri was more conscious, and his manic murmurs and mutterings had whittled down on Sylvain’s mood. He’d been trapped inside the cart with him with very little reprieve. Despite his leg not being fully healed, he’d demanded one for of the horses under the guise of helping them keep watch. Dedue protested but Felix had angrily snipped something about how he can do whatever he pleases, and had helped him out of the cart. Sylvain hadn’t known what to think of that. They hadn’t spoken to each other since Ingrid’s ‘rescue’ and that had been the first words said in reference to him since they had left.

He thinks he’s in mourning, for a multitude of things, like the rest of them and he held onto a perverse hope he mourned for the same thing Sylvain did. So Sylvain gave him space, despite his needy nature.

Instead, he had talked. He talked about the nature around them, the delicious food Dedue was making them, or how particular clouds remind him of animals. 

He had talked about nothing. 

Abso-fucking-lutely nothing and did not talk about the future nor the monastery, how much pain he was in nor anything that would remotely remind them of the happy past they’ll never have again or the happy future they might have had. Ingrid had at least seemed thankful for it, jeering back anytime he’d self-deprecate, but Felix had merely silently rode by his side, with Sylvain occasionally catching him staring at him for long periods of time, face full of a sadness he could not fix.

They had made camp, with Ingrid heading out to hunt and Dedue keeping watch over their soon-to-be-crowned King. Without any prompting, Felix had wordlessly sat by Sylvain and began a sequence of healing spells over his thigh wound that had bled through and across his broken ankle that had swelled again thanks to the partial day of riding. He hadn’t scolded him for it, nor told him he should stick to the cart tomorrow as was probably the wiser thing to do. He just sat there, doing what had to be done and when Sylvain had reached a hand up to touch him, thumbing circles into his forearm, Felix paused what he’d been doing to look at him, granting him the smallest of smiles filled with the sadness of reassurance.

They had eaten and the topic had finally turned to the future, what they were going to do now that war had broken out. Sylvain had participated uninterestedly. In the end it wouldn’t matter. They weren’t in charge of anything, their parents were still leader’s of their respective Houses and they would be the ones calling the shots; them their freshly knighted pawns to command. Sylvain silented betted the Duke would end up leading the Kingdom with Dimitri as some sort of puppet monarch by the end of the year with potentially Felix only having the slightest chances of swaying his father’s opinions. It would be the only chance they’d have to be together, Sylvan had realized, and he was holding on to it. 

He’d excused himself from the conversation early, citing tiredness and needing rest--which hadn’t been a complete lie, his body fucking _ached_ \--but mainly to get away from the multitude of permitations Ingrid had been spouting. After a certain point, he’d realized the two of them were just arguing about air and he'd been done.

After he’d left, Felix had rudely stood up while Dimitri was talking to him lucidly for once and joined Sylvain. He’d placed a long, loving kiss on his lips and sighed into his arms to fall asleep against his chest. 

The following day, Sylvain had made the choice to rest in the cart the rest of the way north, Dimitri having finally settled from the battle. He’d need it for the last portion of the trip he’d be doing solo on horseback, anyways. By the late morning they’d reached the small merchant crossroads branching towards the coast and capitol. They had opted to hide Dimitri from the villagers who were eager for news and with nothing else to do but sit, Sylvain had talked to anyone who wanted to hear, recanting the broad strokes of the battle, the Emperor, and how valiantly their soon-to-be King had fought. Even in these early stages, Sylvain knew this would likely drag on--the peoples’ belief in the Church wouldn’t go down so easily, and morale would be key. 

The others had returned with supplies and Felix with clean bandages and a fresh horse for Sylvain. They’d given their awkward goodbyes, knowing they’d all be in contact for reasons other than friendship soon enough and the group split; Ingrid, Dedue, and the soon-to-be King of Faerghus heading west, Felix and Sylvain east. 

So now, here they are traveling together, alone, back to their homelands. 

Felix makes sure to stop them every now and then to check on his bandages, making faces as he runs the diagnostic magic over them. “Should have gotten you a wheelbarrow,” Sylvain catches him muttering one time, but he lets it pass, just happy to hear him speaking.

They make camp in a secluded spot in the woods and spend the night gazing at the stars, Sylvain whispering made up stories about them into his ear. Eventually he starts improvising poetry about a sassy raven-haired swordsman until Felix’s lips twist with such a discomfort he finally kisses him to shut him up. 

“I’ll send you a poem every day, my love,” Sylvain teases between kisses.

“Cute of you to think I’ll even open them,” Felix hums, kissing him back.

“You liar, you’ll be jerking off to each and every one. I’ll make sure of it with the salacious words I’ll weave for you.” He kisses Felix tenderly. 

“Mm, I doubt it. I’m inclined to toss each into the flames,” Felix says teasingly, lifting his chin for Sylvain to kiss his neck. 

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Felix says coyly. 

“Forgotten?” Sylvain says, pulling back and confused. 

“You called me ‘babe,’” he says sassily. 

“Oh come on! I had no blood left in me and you won’t forgive that!?”

Felix merely smiles cheekily at him, but Sylvain can tell it’s held back. Nothing will rid them of the halo of gloom lurking above their heads. 

“How about you write me,” Felix says, curling his fingers around Sylivan’s hair, “all the things you wish to call me instead?”

Sylvain pulls him in for one last tired kiss. “Done. You're so going to regret that.”

The morning comes and they arrive at the crossroads far too quickly. North to Gautier manor, south to castle Fraldarius. They look out towards the cold ocean from atop their horses, neither one eager to depart. 

“We’ll survive this war,” Felix says, sounding like he’s commanding a battalion. Sylvain wonders if that’s what he’ll sound like from now on, if he’ll ever have a softness to his voice again.

“We will,” Sylvain says back, like the practiced liar he is. 

“I won’t let you go,” he says, turning to show him a hand held to his heart. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work-- _I’ll_ figure out a way. I--” He stops, scowling and maneuvers his horse closer to Sylvain. Sylvain chuckles at the awkward attempt and guides his horse to him instead. Once close enough, Felix grabs him by the chin, like he would at the Academy, but with a gentleness that hadn’t been there before. With the morning sun, his amber eyes speak of the freedom Sylvain yearns for and they-- _heh_ \--what do you know? They actually do sparkle like gemstones. 

“Say it,” Felix doesn’t command, but begs. 

“I love you Felix Fraldarius, until the end and even then, into the heavens or Flames below for all my life and eternity.” 

Felix kisses him, lips hot and needing, the day forcing him to pull back unsatisfied with a small gasp. “I love you,” Felix says against his lips. 

Before Sylvain can respond, or even look at him again, Felix spurs his horse and rides south. 

Sylvain stares at his departing figure, dumbfounded and laughs. _Of course! Of fucking course he would._ He laughs louder. “You fucking-” _coward,_ but the word wouldn’t come to him because Felix is anything but a coward. He’s braver than any of them combined. 

He sits atop his horse, laughing as he watches his swordsman disappear behind the hills until it turns to sobs. Closing his eyes, he feels the cool breeze drying his tears and waits until they run no more with a smile upon his face--the one that Felix holds in his heart. 

He opens his eyes, and turns north.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it to the end with these fools along side me, please let me know, it'd seriously mean the world to me.
> 
> -Byleth falls, and sothis thinks "oh, no, not again." and then byleth is all "Sothis! My friend! My pal! Where have you ever been! I've been on this great adventure since you've disappeared, you wouldn't believ-" and then hits the ground  
> - _~*~*~*~Bad Metaphors~*~*~*~_ That boulder that hits Ashe? Yeah, that was "incoming, straight?" And it bounced, therefore not really having an exactly straight path? Get it? Get it? 'Cause Sylvain and Ashe aren't exactly straight? Ehh? Ehh? (i'll see myself out)  
> -How does Sylvain's horse survive all that? Because Sylvain's horse is Roach and spawns where available  
> -I recognize I completely ignored the concept of battalions, but listen. It was for the drama.  
> -I hope you all understand that I've had "INGRID COCKBLOCK OF THE CENTURY" in my outline for _months_  
>  -Second to my favorite note: "WHY IS THERE A DRAGON HOLYSHIT [felix pov]"  
> -My outlines really aren't helpful  
> -More of just a list of _*does body roll*_ ~essential moods~  
> -Almost non-existent background ships that are definitely there if you squint reeeeeeeal close: Dimidue, Ingrid/Knighthood (entirely sylvix's fault), dorogrid (entirely unrequited), Claude/Books  
> -I have lots of sweeping ideas about what happens post-time skip as Ashe defecting kind of launches the story into canon-divergent territory, follow me on twitter to see me go off  
> -Also follow me on twitter to vote on prequel stuff/my next longfic!
> 
> **Next up**  
>  _Studied Eyes: A For Your Smile Prequel_  
>  Yuri watched the fresh academy student with great amusement. Raven-haired, lean, and looking entirely too gay and bored for an establishment like this, he decided to saunter over. Perhaps an arrangement could be made of this.
> 
> **YOU DESERVE HAPPINESS**
> 
> *********************************** **SPOILERY CW** *********************************  
> Blood, descriptive gore, claustrophobic situation, main character death fake out  
> *********************************** **SPOILERY CW** *********************************
> 
> =)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @fearlesswindy1
> 
> You can retweet this story and have my eternal thanks [here](https://twitter.com/fearlesswindy1/status/1351279482498236416?s=20)
> 
> =)


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